The Mortal Instruments: City of Past Ghosts (Book 1)

Chapter 4: Convincing Matters

Chapter 4: Convincing Matters

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Jace kicked a lone rock out of his way with the tip of his boot, his hands shoved deep in his pockets to keep his hands warm against the grey London weather.

Jace impatiently pushed curly blond hair that fell into his eyes as the wind blew across his face. He silently cursed the wind. His mind was blank though his face resembled a person in deep thought. A crease was formed in between his eyes and his emotionless eyes cast downwards, focused on the cracks in the pavement.

He decided he would be Portaling back to the New York Institute tonight, with the rune Clary had created.

He was glamoured now, so no one could see the seraph blades and daggers that hung on his belt and was secured by his several sheaths. The last thing he needed was for annoying mundane girls to come up to him, giving him her number or mundanes screaming at the sight of his deadly instruments.

A sudden piercing yet extremely familiar scream stabbed into his ears, making them ring and Jace froze, his whole body immobilized in lockdown, feeling like someone had injected heavy doses of numbing potions into him 

Then, as if someone injected liquid adrenaline into his veins, Jace whirled on his heels and followed the source of the scream, pushing his legs forward though such excessive force was unnecessary as even at his usual speed he would have reached there in seconds.

A shape-shifter demon—a Ghost demon, to be exact—sat atop of a young mundie girl who was thrashing and screaming as if her life depended on it, the demon hissing and growling bone chilling words.

"Sweet, sweet girl. Blood of an—" Jace flung his dagger which he had free from his belt in exactly zero point six seconds from his sheath and thrown it in another half second. It embedded itself in the back of the demon who howled in anger, whirling on Jace with several black beady eyes that glinted with hunger and malice.

"Another godforsaken Nephilim?" the demon hissed, eyeing the Marks that decorated Jace's skin in a complicated weave of designs like they were something sinful rather than holy.

Jace's eyes narrowed to coin slits. "I'm not just Nephilim. I am the Nephilim." And Jace lunged forward, snarling ghastly as if he were the demon.

The demon howled and launched forward too, it's multiple arms extended to impale and shred Jace to shreds. Jace almost barked a laugh at the thought.

He grabbed a seraph blade from his belt, cried an Angel's name and brought it down in between one of its many eyes, undiluted anger and loathing boiling up in Jace like never before. Jace bared his teeth at the wet sound of flesh ripping.

Upon entry, dark, acidic ichor spilled forth and splattered onto Jace's hand, burning and prickling his skin, irritating Jace further.

Ever since Clary's death which was caused by demons, Jace no longer hunted demons for the adrenaline and thrill. He did it out of hatred and his eternal oath to rid the world of these vile creatures.

The demon howled and swiped its hand at Jace, clawing at his hand. Jace felt the claw shred the skin of his arm though he registered no pain, only an intensified fury. He gritted his teeth and twisted the blade before yanking it back.

He leapt back as the demon lunged for him, a guttural, feral snarl that raised the hair on Jace's nape escaping it's mouth. Jace threw his blazing seraph blade into the air, threw himself around the demon and caught the blade with his other hand before bringing it down onto the demon's neck.

Despite the hard protective shell of the demon, the seraph plunged into the demon as if it were butter, severing it's spinal cord when Jace felt it come into contact with something hard. Griping the hilt of his blade with both hands, Jace twisted his weapon with a grunt until he heard a sickening crunch, telling Jace that he had severe the demon's spine.