*Placed under Original due to the lack of a Mortal Instruments category. Will be moved if said category arises.* Alec Lightwood is plagued by night terrors, dreams that begin to affect his waking ...
To those of you who do not know me from my past and have just happened upon my work through a happy accident, I bid you welcome. Thank you for taking the time to peruse my material. My words thank you. My stories thank you. And my past readers thank you. If it wasn't for you, I may never have returned. So here I am - once again a slave to those who feed the reviews. :) It's good to be back.
I crouched low behind the dumpster, seraph blade in hand. My withchlight, which hung around my neck on a chain of silver, cast an eerie glow throughout the alley. For a human, it wouldn’t have been enough to see by, but for a Nephilim? It was plenty. In fact, at the moment, it was too much. I could feel it drawing the demons to me like moths to a flame.
At least they’re coming to me instead of Jace or Izzy, or… I stopped, not letting myself finish the sentence. If anything happened to- no. I wouldn’t allow it.
My eyes scanned the alley, coming to rest on the building in which I knew Jace was lying in wait. I was the bait, despite Isabelle’s protests, and Jace would strike on my signal.
They appeared out of nowhere. Two Ravener Demons; grub-like, with a barbed scorpion tail and lots of teeth, all headed straight for me. I waited until the Raveners were almost on top of me before screaming, “NOW!” and leaping high into the air.
Jace burst out of the window of the building as I caught a lamp post and hung on for dear life. One Ravener leapt up and snapped at my leg, narrowly missing. I swung back and forth, taunting him, keeping him busy while Jace stabbed the other with his glowing blade. I watching, impressed, as the demon collapsed into nothing.
I dropped down from the post, plunging my seraph blade deep into the black hole that should have been the demon’s heart. He, too, disappeared.
I glanced up at Jace, who was beaming at me. He was breathing heavily, and his already tight shirt, in the traditional Shadowhunter black, was drenched with sweat, rain, and ichor. It clung to him, not leaving much to the imagination. He was sexy, in a word.
“Nice job, Alec,” Jace said, still smiling. I grinned back, adrenaline still rushing through my system.
“Let’s go home so I can wash the ichor out of my hair,” I laughed, starting towards the building where Jace’s jacked-up, flying vamp-cycle was waiting. Before I knew what had happened, something swept me off my feet. My head hit the ground, and I blacked out.