Chapter Fifteen

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It had taken much more time and effort than Andina would have liked to get herself back to the Institute. She could hardly spark up an iratze for herself, which was perhaps the only thing that spurred a consideration that, huh, this wound may be a bit worse than what the typical rune could help. The slice in her abdomen stung as viscously as the flamed torture her wrist had conjured up quite often lately. There were few times the intimidating pyres that loomed over Central Park were quite so graciously invited. Andy did her best to get to the welcome sight without staggering, her palm finding the roughened cotton of her sweater. 

Her fingers curled into the material and she failed to stifle a gasp at the pricks provoked by a dry edge of her fresh wound being torn from the wool. Underneath, her thin shirt had done little to keep blood from sopping into the rest of her clothing. Yet, she still pulled out the sweater in a half-hearted attempt to keep it from becoming a crimson nightmare. 

A guard stood at the carved wooden doors, a very regular addition in Alec's attempt to patch the large holes in their security that had been exposed by Valentine. Andina offered a nod as she took the stairs two at a time with tremendous effort to hide the strain it brought her, focused on getting in quickly rather than conserving her energy. She grumbled for him not to let her brother in, and the bald Shadowhunter offered somewhat of a scoff at the idea; often, when he received orders regarding Andy or Jace from one of the aforementioned, the Head of the Institute would quickly step in and insist he disregard all of what either Herondale had told him.

A gruff statement conflicted his assumptions. "I'm serious." Andy called back to him from the doorway, an intense gaze set onto him that only served to twist his brow. She left to avoid any more questions – in what the older Shadowhunter assumed was an arrogant haste that he often found in her. Her edge did urge him, though, to roll his shoulders and offer a wider glance to the surroundings of the building as the door thudded behind him.

Andina once found it dumb for the infirmary to have been built and maintained very close to the building's entrance; the sick should not be so easily accessible to those that could intrude. However, now, she was thankful for the short distance she had to muster the energy to cover, as well as the doors that had been updated decades ago with swing hinges as she pushed past them.

She did not appear too harshly worn on the outside. If it weren't for the occasional wince, an onlooker might assume she had spent far too much time out of bed. Her mission halted just slightly at the unexpected sight of Alec and Izzy in the main room, a deep worry spared for the state she had left the man in just over an hour prior. Along the wall of private rooms behind them, one of the cracked doors revealed the figure she had left back in the streets; Simon had slumped into a chair and his face, even from this far away, read despair. Andy was certain the redhead laid inside.

The newcomer's presence did not go unnoticed for long, and it was easy to assume her name was the topic of their conversation when Isabelle muttered, "There," upon spotting the pale brunette on the other side of the room. Alec's head lifted and found her. Andy strode over to her family, daring to drop the held-out shirt back to her skin to avoid appearing weird. 

She did not need to wonder how much they knew for long. Alec's concerned eyes washed over her from head to toe and her question of his sobriety was soon answered; it was easy to be shocked back into reality upon the reception of news from his sister that Clary had nearly died after Simon showed up to the Institute with her. Andy's heart sunk, she wanted to believe that getting Clary here was the assurance of her survival. She could not stop herself as she blurted, "Is she okay?"

Alec met her with an amber smolder that would be too dangerous to allow to die out on its own. The "Yes." he spat was woven with disapproval, mixed into the annoyance of being interrupted. Isabelle prepared to pause the rampage that brewed within her brother, until both Lightwoods took a detailed note of the pale hand that hovered over Andy's rib as if shifting from a cramp. It offered Alec enough time to continue and he aired his suspicions. "The vampire told us you took off to find Jace." 

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