"Jonathan." Jocelyn whispered. Her heart was racing in her chest, the constant thump, thump, thump, was almost comforting. Luke spoke first.
"Where are we, Jonathan? What do you plan to do with us?" He was always so logical, Jocelyn thought. That was one of the many things she loved about him. Even when all she could think was Jonathan, Jonathan, Jonathan, Jonathan.
"Oh, I'm afraid I can't tell you that. And, please, call me Sebastian. As to what I'm going to do with you: I will tell you something, a message, and you can relay it to Clarissa. You see, I could do it myself, but I thought it might be more meaningful coming from you. Don't you think?" He said. His cold, hard, glare pointing at her. Only her. He hadn't really glanced at Lucian once.
"I've learned from people like Valentine, people like you, that its never that simple. You want more from us to relay a message." Jocelyn said, her ability to speak again back.
"Valentine made many mistakes. He relied on people. So when people let him down, he was destroyed. By a sixteen- year-old girl, mind you. I do not rely on people at all. My plan is perfect, it has no flaws. I, myself, couldn't stop it. And let me assure you, I am very clever. So don't think that me and my father are the same, when we are completely different. And, I assure you, that's all I want."
"Let's say we believe you," Luke interjected. "What do you want us to tell Clary?"
Sebastian looked at Luke, a look that sent shivers down Jocelyn's spine. "Tell her that when I succeed in my plan, that I will not kill her. That I will marry her, instead. And kill her pretty little angel boy right in front of her eyes.
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