Combined Forces (A Percy Jackson/The Mortal Instruments Crossover)

Chapter 3: Freaky Emo-Goth Kid

So, this is the new chapter and as some people can already tell from the heading, it is about our very own Emo-Goth hero, Nico DiAngelo (^.^) Oh n... Clary is a bit angry...

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Clary's pov:

Clary had not been expecting this.

'This' would be the call she had received earlier by Isabelle. The call had concerned a hippie slash gothic kid who had stumbled upon the institute with a sword in hand.

The odd thing was that the boy had gotten through into the institute without being stopped which meant that he wasn't a downworlder and neither was he a mundane as he had clearly spotting the old building that towered over its surroundings.

The kid had said that his name was Nico... it sounded somewhat Italian to Clary.

Clary Fray wore a long, brown overcoat over a simple tank top and a pair of jeans as she trudged through the busy streets of New York, her mind wandering over to the mystery kid.

He was a goth, that much was for sure. Other than that, the other known fact about him was that his name was Nico. Not to mention that he was probably a rouge shadow hunter judging by the weapons at him avail.

What she also knew was that he was not Marked anywhere, either by the sign that proclaimed him as a shadow hunter nor any other in the matter of speaking.

He was an odd ball but then again, she, herself, had been an odd ball once so she could say that she felt pity for the gothic boy for the hostility he may receive.

Along with the sympathy, there was an underlying feeling that sent shivers racing up her spine. Somehow, she knew that the boy was not a shadow hunter but he wasn't a downworlder or mundane either.

Whatever or whoever he was, he was dangerous.

As Clary made her way to the institute, she couldn't help but think of Jace. She hadn't seen him for quite a while now.

Passing through the familiar areas of her home town, she thought back to her adventures with Jace, Alec and Isabelle.

They had become her second family or so it seemed to her. There was only one person out of them who struck her as odd; Jace.

What he never realized was that when he thought he was punishing himself by staying away from Clary, she was actually going through the same pain if not more.

She wondered if this tantrum of him was no different than any other.

She rounded the corner that led to the Institute with a grim expression on her face. She knew that when she got there, Jace would probably be out for a walk.

Another thing about Jace she didn't understand is how his 'walks' could cause cuts and bruises and last for six hours at times.

Once, she had stayed over just to catch Jace. Apparently, he can even walk for a day and a half. Finally, she had given up on the idea and prodded back to her house with a grim expression touching her features.

She was standing right in front of the Institute now; one hand placed apprehensively on the fenced gate and the other digging into her coat's pocket.

She heaved the door open and strut inside the garden of the Lightwood's residence.

She looked around; several flowers were relieved from their petals while some stood, covered in white, crystallizing water. The grass was painfully stiff and looked like an incomplete patchwork.