City Of Bones

Chapter 5

"Dammit!" The man slammed his back against the black leather car seat in frustration. "We almost had her!"

"Valentine, how are you even sure that was her? Are you sure we didn't just scare a random teenager half to death?" Blackwell said with a dry hint of amusement. Valentine turned and glared at him. They were in their white limo, Valentine and Blackwell in the back while Pangborn was driving.

"Well she ran from us didn't she?" Valentine was fuming inside. He couldn't believe he let the girl out of his hands so easily. They were so close to getting the Cup. Stupid little bitch. Just like her mother, a pain in the ass and is always running. Valentine still loved Jocelyn but this girl...He knew nothing about her. What was her name? Who was her father?

"So? There could have been another reason." Blackwell shrugged. "They are usually taught to run screaming when they think someone is stalking them." Valentine glared at him again, then sighed knowing there was no use arguing with someone as dumbfounded as Blackwell.

"The photo," Valentine stated in a flat voice. He pulled out the picture from his pocket and pointed to the girl's face then continued, "Haven't you heard the expression if it looks like a duck and sounds like a duck then it's a duck? That girl had the same hair, the same eyes, and the same face as the girl in the photo. It has to be her," he drew back the picture and returned it in his pocket. "Are you sure you checked Pandemonium thoroughly?" Valentine asked Blackwell. At this question Blackwell froze. He was sent to check the club right after they lost the girl. He went in, got drowned in the teens, and left. He couldn't stand those stupid teens, giving their bodies away like toys. He waited a bit outside, trying to make Valentine think he was looking for the girl, before returning to the car.

They shouldn't even be looking for the girl. Jocelyn would never give it to that weak little girl and she probably hid the shadow world from her daughter anyways. Jocelyn hated the shadowhunter world so it wouldn't surprise Blackwell if she kept it away from her daughter. She would look at it as keeping her safe, away from weapons and demons. Fortunate child. Well, not so fortunate now since Valentine knows about her and is hunting her down. He will kill everyone in his path to the Mortal Cup. That girl is going to die, Blackwell smugly thought. Soon.

"Yes," Blackwell lied flatly. He made sure there was nothing hidden in his voice but Valentine knew there was. "She wasn't there." Valentine raised an eyebrow and frowned.

"Alright. I believe you," Valentine smiled at Blackwell and he tensed, knowing Valentine saw through his lie but he kept his silence.

"Where shall we go next?" Pangborn called from the driver seat. Valentine frowned, he was too busy trying to look for the girl that he forgot what they would do next. He didn't want the men to think he was weak or stupid so he stalled for time.

"Blackwell," Valentine called in a firm voice. "Check Jocelyn. We wouldn't want her to wake up and run away while we are driving." Valentine smiled and Blackwell turned around to look in the back. Jocelyn was lying carelessly on a pile of rags. Her hair was thrown over her face and behind her, creating a red carpet that looked like fire. Blackwell couldn't see her face through her hair so he pushed himself forward and brushed her hair away to see a pale, blank face. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was set in a firm frown, clearly unconscious. Blackwell let out a small chuckle then drew back to his seat.

"Still unconscious." Blackwell flatly stated. No hint of remorse in his voice. He couldn't care less if the bitch died in their hands. She was useless anyways, Valentine just didn't know that. Valentine was looking out the window, searching for the girl. I will find her, he thought. I will.

* * *

The room was getting louder then ever as Clary slowly turned the cold doorknob. It had a dark sense to it. It was as if it was screaming "Don't come in!" Clary shook off the thought and continued to open the old, rusty door.