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

Chapter 10: Where They Seek Refuge

This chap is dedicated to @mickee_13, @claceisforever, @TheHeroesOfOlympus and @hbram1

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Chapter 10: Where They Seek Refuge

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Clary's eyelids fluttered open and she saw a clear blue sky above her, white puffy clouds and chubby angels with gilded ribbons trailing from their wrists. Her body felt like rusted clockwork; her joints and muscles taut and aching.

Am I dead? Clary wondered. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. This time, she realized she was staring at an arched wooden ceiling painted with a rococo motif of clouds and cherubs.

There was a light pressure wrapped around her hand. Clary looked, seeing another hand—a scarred hand with long, slender and graceful fingers—clutching onto hers lightly, barely with any strength at all. Clary followed the hand up the arm—only to see a blond head resting against the arm, asleep.

She craned her head slightly to get a better look at his face and froze.

Her terrors flooded back into her mind—her torture and the shadow boy and the angel boy one—and she harshly yanked her arm and backed away as much as the white springy bed that was similar to the long row of similar beds with metal headboards she was on allowed.

It was him. The boy that had saved her in the alley and the one that plagued her night terrors at the same time. Unfortunately, the latter got to her.

He woke up immediately the moment her hand left his grasp, looking a bit dazed for a fortieth of a second before his eyes widened and his lips parted slightly at the sight of Clary sitting up. He pushed his curly long blond hair out of his eyes, looking distressed.

"Clary?" he murmured, reaching out his hand to touch her.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed, forgetting that she was already the edge of the bed and fell off and onto the cold floor below. Pain shot up her tailbone when she hit the floor—hard. Terror and fear engulfed her though she tried not to let her emotions show.

"Clary!" he gasped, surprised. She heard him stand up from his seat, the chair scraping across the floor loudly.

Swiftly, he walked to the other side of the bed and was in front of Clary, his face still surprised and shocked.

"C'mon, sit on the bed." he said, stretching out his hand, trying to be gentle.

"Please, don't touch me!" she squeaked, cringing into the wall. Somewhere deep down, she knew her current actions were preposterous but her mind kept thinking of the dreams that he plagued...where he tortured her.

His eyebrows furrowed and hurt flashed in his eyes for a second. He straightened up quickly, looking at her warily for a second before taking a deep breath and yelling "Isabelle!"

Clary involuntarily cringed at the volume of his voice.

Hurried footsteps were heard and soon a ridiculously beautiful girl with long dark hair rushed into the room, her lacquered ebony colored eyes frantic. She had high cheekbones and porcelain pale skin. She was tall, making Clary feel shorter than she already was. She wore a vintage lace blouse that was frilly at the sleeves.The fabric hugged her perfect curvy and slender body perfectly in all the right perfect places. She wrote skin tight black pants and mid-calf leather boots that clicked against the hard floor. Unusual black designs ran up her arms and peeked out from the neckline of her blouse, curling and curving.

"What is it, Jace?" she breathed, looking at the blond boy.

Clary guessed this was Isabelle.

Her dark brown eyes narrowed in on Clary, noticing her, and widened in shock for a moment. Her expression softened as she neared Clary whose heart was thumping rapidly in her chest, grinding against her ribcage.