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chapter forty-six. . . dead to the living
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EVEN AFTER CLARY had tried to kill Jonathan, he still was willing to please her and Malia by taking them to Paris as he had suggested before his near to death experience. Malia had been silent as she had tried to comprehend that the mark sitting on their chests was a mark that seemed to have linked together. Jonathan feels pain, they all feel pain. He was going to be a problem for them for a long time and Malia doubted if it was possible to get the mark off of their chests.
The brunette had watched as Jonathan's eyes had darkened as he had changed the locale of the apartment to where he had suggested and promised. Ground beneath them had rumbled as if there was due to be an earthquake as the lights flickered around them. Malia had made sure that she had gripped onto the furniture to make sure she wouldn't stumble or fall with how the apartment aggressively shook before it had stopped abruptly.
Clary held confusion. She didn't expect for the change of location would've been such a bumpy ride. "What was that?" She questioned with hope of an explanation from Jonathan who had taken control with how the apartment had moved.
"Just a little change of locale." Jonathan informed causing Malia to push herself off of the back of the dining room chair she had been gripping for dear life before she had hurried towards the french doors that would've led out to a balcony in New York but it led to sight of the Eiffel Tower.
They were in Paris, still far from home.
The bells chimed above Malia's head as her breath had caught in her throat and she had stiffened. Jonathan was trying to make amends with his sister and Malia was willing to give him a chance but all she had wanted was to see her friends, she wanted to see Simon, Luke and specifically she wanted to see Jace and finish what she had told him before she had drew her last breath.
Jonathan's brows furrowed as he had hoped for a better reaction from his younger sisters. They were seemingly dumbfounded but not the way he had hoped for either of them to be. "What's wrong? You're in Paris. I thought you'd be happy."
"Oh, I'm sorry." Malia's tone had turned harsh and which had turned cold towards Jonathan. "I'm not too thrilled to be shackled to my demon-blooded brother." She remarked as she gripped onto the wall that surrounded them, feeling her nails beginning to break with the anger she had felt with being linked with Jonathan.
"I take it you're referring to our little bond." Malia's eyes helplessly rolled. He had said it so calmly, he was fine with being linked to his sisters because he knew no one could hurt him even if they wanted to try. "I forgive you for trying to kill me, by the way, Clary." His eyes shifted towards the Fairchild who stood at the threshold of the door.
