More Than Starlight (Lady Midnight Julian + Emma)

Chapter 14 - Black as Midnight

Emma's eyes felt as if they were cemented shut, it almost hurt to open them. When she did finally manage to open them, the room she was in was dark, so dark she couldn't make out much of anything save the gray stone floor and the large bucket of water in front of her. Her arms were bound together above her head and her shoulders ached as if they were hanging there for hours. Her mind was hazy and it took a few moments before her eyes adjusted to the dark and she could fully be aware of her surroundings. She thought she was in a cave but it looked more like a room with stone floors and a stone wall surrounding it. It looked almost too familiar. She was barely standing, her hands that were bound above her head were tied to the ceiling, leaving her body almost dangling. Her hair had come undone and was hanging in long wet tangles, sticking to her body. Looking down, she noticed all of her weapons were gone including her stele. She tried to plant her feet firmly on the ground and yank her hands free, but the movement sent her head reeling as her legs lost all strength and she buckled at her knees. Her hung head down lifelessly and she squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to will the room to stop spinning.

"I must say, I am disappointed," A voice purred from behind her, "I wanted Blackthorn blood. I dragged you all the way here and you are not even a Blackthorn, are you?" The voice was obviously a woman's and had an edge of irritation to it.

"I'm sorry to be such a disappointment. Normally people are quite excited to get the opportunity to torture me." Emma choked out, her breath catching as her chest ached.

"I've never quite understood the humor of your generation. Quite lazy, really." The voice was still out of her sight, drifting around the side of Emma now. However, she didn't need to see her to guess who it was.

"So what made you think I was a Blackthorn?" Emma asked, honestly curious.

"Well I saw the blonde hair, you were outside the Los Angeles Institute looking for Mark, who I thought was your brother." She sounded even more annoyed, as if explaining how she was wrong agitated her.

"You thought I was Helen? And you say I'm lazy," Emma scoffed sharply, "Didn't bother to notice I did not have faerie ears or blue-green eyes? Really, that's just a poor kidnapping job-" Her hair was yanked back, white hot pain blinding her and cutting her voice off completely. The pain in her head was so great she gagged, unable to stand or hold her head up.

"I grow tired of your incessant babbling. I know you are not a Blackthorn, but I know now that they will want you, and that is almost better." Finally the woman stepped in front of Emma, pulling her face up to meet hers with the tip of her forefinger. Emma's heart was racing, gasping for air as if her lungs would not open. It was Annabel Blackthorn. While one eye was still the trademark Blackthorn blue-green color, the other eye was entirely white. Annabel looked into Emma's brown eyes as if awaiting another sarcastic remark, but Emma's breathing was getting more and more difficult, no words would come out. With a smirk, Annabel stood up and walked back behind her. Long black hair flowed to her hips and the tatters of a white dress twirled around her ankles as she turned; the type of dresses people were buried in. Suddenly, Emma's hands were freed from their bonds and she collapsed to the hard floor. She tried to push herself up onto her hands, but cursed herself as she fell down again. She was a Shadowhunter, but she couldn't even stand up. She pushed herself up to her elbows and maintained her strong expression at least, she would not let Annabel have the satisfaction of breaking her.

"And what is it that you want? To raise Malcolm from the dead because we killed him?" Emma spat the words out, her voice cracking and hoarse.

"No, I am no warlock and cannot dabble in dark magic. But I can, however, seek revenge." Suddenly, Emma was pulled up by the back of her collar and pushed forward, her head thrust into the bucket of water ahead of her. Panic began to surge up in her chest, her eyes stinging from the water and her lungs starting to burn. She began to thrash and screamed in the water. She thought of the dream she had, on the beach when the waves overtook her and as she screamed, there were no bubbles but the sound was clear and she knew it was not real. This, however, was not a dream. Her scream was muffled and bubbles surged up to the surface as water flooded into her mouth. Finally she was dragged out, gasping desperately for air. Her blonde hair was plastered to her face and neck as she scrambled backwards away from the water. Flashes of her nearly drowning at the convergence flooded through her, adding more fuel to the fire of her panic. Tears began to sting her eyes as she fetched up against the far wall. An unforgiving laugh echoed through the room as Annabel watched her, "My my, I was not sure if they were true. But I see now that it is."

"What is true?" Emma willed the tears back as she spoke strongly.

Her mouth turned up in a ghastly smile, "It was Malcolm's blood that raised me, it seeped into my coffin after you killed him and watched the waves carry him away. Because of this, his memories run through my head. I was not sure if they were true or purely a result of psychosis from being trapped in that coffin for years, but he knew of your fear of the ocean and drowning. I can see in your eyes now that it is true. You can lie however much you want and feign your strength, but just know this. I know more than you might expect. I know how to break you."

***

Clary put the pen to the paper in the downstairs office of the Los Angeles Institute, but no words would come. Part of her knew they needed the backup, but over the past 5 years Emma had been like her little sister. She knew what the penalty for being in love with your parabatai was and she did not want to risk it. Clary and Jace had never been those who were sticklers to the law, and this was one rule she did not understand. Who was the Clave to tell you who you could or could not love? Love makes you stronger. Finally, black ink flowed on the page as she wrote to Jia Penhallow, but just to her. She had known Jia and trusted that if she were to meet them at the Institute later, she could keep her focused on the matter at hand.

Dear Consul Penhallow,

I am writing to you in concern with the continued murders in Los Angeles. I do not want to raise panic within the Clave, but I believe you, as Consul, need to be aware of the events unfolding. We believe that Malcolm Fade, former High Warlock of Los Angeles, succeeded in his attempts at Necromancy, raising Annabel Blackthorn from the dead. Without proof, we did not want to propose this to the Council, but I believe it to be true. Threats have been made to the Blackthorn family once again and one of the residents of the Los Angeles Institute, Emma Carstairs, has been taken. As one of my dear and most trusted friends, I request your presence at the Los Angeles Institute tomorrow morning.

May the Angel Raziel guide you,

Clary Fairchild

She sent the fire message, and with a deep breath went to join Jace and Julian in the Weapons room to prepare to leave. Her hands were shaking as she made her way down the hallway.

"Clary!" It was Julian who looked up as she walked in, "We tracked her. She's at the Convergence."

"The Convergence? I thought it was destroyed after Malcolm died?" Clary was rushing around the room, strapping on gear and gathering steles and weapons as she called over her shoulder.

Jace scoffed as he clipped his weapons belt around his waist, "So did we. But I guess we're about to find out."