Phase Two (Book Two: Experiment Series TMI)✔

.CHAPTER ELEVEN.

A loud, shrill scream woke me up.

"Jonathan!" Clary.
"JONATHAN CHRISTOPHER MORGENSTERN!!"
In an instant, I was running towards the source of her sound at full speed, hurling myself down the stair and landing in front of them. Not a second later, Jonathan landed in between them, a knife in his hand. His hair was sleep-mussed, while mine probably looked like a rat's nest; he wore a dark T-shirt and black pants. He glanced between Clary and Jace, his black eyes taking in the situation, averting his gaze immediately when they met mine.

“Lovers’ spat?” he inquired. Clary’s voice shook. “His rune’s damaged. Here.” My eyes widened at her confession as she put her hand over her heart. “He’s trying to go back, to give himself up to the Clave—”

I gasped when Jonathan’s hand shot out and grabbed the silver Cup out of Jace’s hand. He slammed it down on the kitchen counter. Jace, still white with shock, watched him; he didn’t move a muscle as Jonathan stepped close and took him by the front of the shirt. The top buttons on the shirt popped open, baring his collar, and Jonathan slashed the point of his stele across it, gashing an iratze into the skin. Jace bit down on his lip, his eyes full of hatred as Jonathan released him and took a step back, stele in hand.

“Honestly, Jace,” he said. “The idea that you thought you could get away with something like this just knocks me out.”Jace’s hands tightened into fists as the iratze, black as charcoal, began to sink into his skin.

His words came out out, breathless: “Next time… you want to be knocked out… I’d be happy to help you. Maybe with a brick.”

Jonathan 'tsk'ed.
“You’ll thank me later. Even you have to admit this death wish of yours is a little extreme.”
Jace's gaze traveled slowly across Jonathan’s face. For that moment there was only the two of them in the room, and when Jace spoke, his words came cold and clear. “I won’t remember this later,” hesaid. “But you will. That person who acts like your friend—” He took a step forward, closing the space between himself and Jonathan. “That person who acts like they like you. That person isn’t real. This is real. This is me. And I hate you. I will always hate you. And there is no magic and no spell in this world or any other that will ever change that.” He paused, a thoughtful look on his face, looking at me before turning his attention back to Jonathan.
"I have no idea how someone could possibly love you, but that girl over there does." He pointed at me. "Even after the pain you've put her through. You don't deserve her love. You don't deserve her." He spat out. I was going through mixed feelings at Jace's caring attitude and the sting of heartbreak.

For a moment the grin on Jonathan’s face wavered. Jace tore his gaze from Jonathan and looked at Clary.
“I need you to know,” he said, “the truth—I didn’t tell you all the truth.”
“The truth is dangerous,” said Jonathan, holding the stele before him like a knife. “Be careful what you say.”

Jace winced. His chest was rising and falling rapidly; it was clear that the healing of the rune on his chest was causing him physical pain. “The plan,” he said. “To raise Lilith, to make a new Cup, to create a dark army—that wasn’t Sebastian’s plan. It was mine.”

Clary froze. “What?”

“Sebastian knew what he wanted,” said Jace. “But I figured out how he could do it. A new Mortal Cup—I gave him that idea.” He jerked in pain, “Or, should I say, he did. That thing that looks like me but isn’t? He’ll burn down the world if Sebastian wants him to, and laugh while he’s doing it.That’s what you’re saving, Clary. That. Don’t you understand? I’d rather be dead—”