The Mortal Instruments | Shadowhunters

21. Renwick's Ruin

They made their way up to the street via a circuitous maze of cells and corridors that eventually opened out into what had once been the lobby of a police station. The building was abandoned now, and the slanting light of late afternoon cast strange shadows over the empty desks, the padlocked cabinets pocked with black termite holes, the cracked floor tiles spelling out the motto of the NYPD: Fidelis ad Morter

"Faithful unto death," translated Daphne.

"Let me guess," said Clary. "On the inside it's an abandoned police station; from the outside, mundanes only see a condemned apartment building, or a vacant lot, or..."

"Actually, it looks like a Chinese restaurant from the outside." Luke said. "Takeout only, no table service."

"A Chinese restaurant?" Clary echoed in disbelief.

Daphne shrugged. "Well, we are in Chinatown."

"People must think it's weird that there's no phone number to call for orders."

Luke grinned. "There is. We just don't answer it much. Sometimes, if they're bored, some of the cubs will deliver someone some mu shu pork."

Clary stared. "You're kidding."

"Not at all. The tips come in handy." He pushed the front door open, letting in a stream of sunlight.

Daphne and Clary followed Luke across Baxter Street to where his truck was parked. Luke shut the door after them. "Stay right here."

Daphne watched as he talked to Gretel and Alaric, who were standing on the steps of the old police station, waiting patiently. Clary amused herself by letting her eyes fade in and out of focus, watching the glamour appear and disappear. First it was an old police station, then it was a dilapidated storefront sporting a yellow awning that read JADE WOLF: CHINESE CUISINE.

"Jade wolf." Daphne mused. "You know, ironically enough, in China Jade is a symbol of wealth." She gestured around at the run-down place, paint peeling off the walls, the dirty surroundings a far cry from wealthy.

Clary frowned at Daphne. "It's not nice to make fun."

Daphne blinked, confused. "I'm not making fun." 

She wasn't. She was just pointing out the obvious irony. Clary sighed.

Luke as in the parking lot, where a great number of parked vehicles sat. He conversed with Gretel for a few moments, before accepting a white paper back from her and walking back. Folding his lanky body behind the wheel, Luke handed Clary the bag. "You're in charge of this."

Clary peered at it suspiciously. "What's in it? Weapons?"

Luke's shoulders shook with laughter. "Steamed bao buns, actually." He said, trying to hide his smile. "And coffee."

Luke pulled the truck out into the street, and Clary ripped the bag open as they headed uptown. Daphne happily accepted one as well, and tore the bun apart, savoring the rich savory-salt taste of the pork, and the chewiness of the white dough. "Mmm." Daphne hummed happily. Devouring it less than four bites, the girl reached over to stuff another bao in her mouth.

"So, tell me about this Jace," said Luke.

Clary looked over, eating her own bun. "What about him?"

"Do you have any idea what Valentine might want with him?"

"No." Clary looked at Daphne, and asked hesitantly, "You've known Jace much longer than I have; any idea why Valentine took him?"

Daphne wiped away at her lips, which were tilted downwards in a frown. "No idea. Jace has never mentioned Valentine to me, outside of recent conversations about the Uprising and Mortal Cup and whatnot. I have no idea why Valentine would take him." And Daphne hated not knowing.