Chapter 13 : THE BIRTHDAY
The shapeshifter died with Jace's blade through its chest.
It had worn a young man's face — handsome, club-appropriate, the kind of mask that let predators hunt among the dancing crowd. Now it dissolved into black smoke, returning to whatever hell dimension had spawned it, leaving only the faint stench of sulfur and the echo of its final scream.
"That's the third one tonight," Izzy said, retracting her whip. "Someone's stirring them up."
Through the secondary bond, I caught her excitement mixed with concern. Three demons in one location, all targeting mundanes, all appearing within hours of each other.
Valentine's opening move, I thought. Drawing Shadowhunters to Pandemonium while his people move on Jocelyn.
"More coming," Jace wiped his blade clean on the dead demon's discarded jacket. "I can feel—"
He stopped.
His head turned toward the dance floor, toward a flash of red hair moving through the crowd with the confused grace of someone seeing too much.
Clary Fray.
I'd positioned myself for this moment — angled to observe without appearing to observe, ready to act without seeming to anticipate. The girl moved like she was dreaming, eyes tracking things her mundane companion couldn't perceive.
She could see us. Through the glamour that hid Shadowhunters from normal sight, she could see.
"Mundane with the Sight," Izzy murmured. "Unusual."
"More than unusual." Jace's voice had shifted. Interest, curiosity, the beginning of something that would consume him if canon held. "She's watching us like she recognizes what we are."
Clary's eyes met Jace's across the crowd.
In the show, this moment had been the start of everything — the connection that would drive two seasons of plot, the attraction that would complicate loyalties and fracture families. I watched it happen in real time and felt the weight of inevitability settle against my chest.
"Circle demons incoming," I said, deliberately breaking the moment. "Three more, west entrance."
Jace blinked. "How do you—"
"Move."
The demons burst through the emergency exit like a wave of teeth and claws. Lesser demons, Raveners mostly, but enough of them to cause chaos if they reached the mundane crowd.
We split without discussing tactics. Jace went high, leaping onto a speaker stack to gain altitude. Izzy went wide, whip singing as she created a perimeter. I held center, bow drawn, arrows finding targets with the precision of Alec's training.
Three shots. Three kills. The demons dissolved before they could reach the dance floor.
But in the chaos, Clary had moved. She'd gotten closer to the demon corpses, closer to Jace, close enough that when the fourth demon — the one I hadn't sensed — emerged from behind the DJ booth—
She screamed.
Jace reacted on instinct. His blade took the demon's head off in one clean stroke, ichor spraying across Clary's painted face. She stood frozen, trembling, staring at the monster that had almost killed her.
"You're okay." Jace caught her arm, steadying her. "You're safe."
"What— what are you—"
"Shadowhunters." He said it like it explained everything. For him, it probably did. "And you shouldn't be able to see us."
Simon Lewis pushed through the crowd, face pale, eyes wide. He couldn't see the demons or the weapons, but he could see his best friend covered in something that looked like black paint, standing with strangers who radiated danger.
"Clary? Clary, what happened? Are you okay?"
I approached slowly, giving them time to process. In canon, Alec had been hostile — suspicious of the mundane girl with impossible sight, resentful of Jace's immediate fascination. That Alec had created friction that lasted for episodes.
I wasn't that Alec.
"We need to leave," I said, pitching my voice to carry calm authority. "More will come. You're not safe here."
Clary's eyes found mine. Red-rimmed, terrified, but underneath — the stubborn fire that would drive her through everything to come.
"Who are you people?"
"Allies." I offered my hand. "Come to the Institute. We'll explain everything."
Jace shot me a surprised look. Through the parabatai bond, I felt his confusion — this wasn't how Alec usually handled civilians.
But he didn't argue.
Twenty minutes later, we walked through the Institute's doors with two shell-shocked mundanes in tow.
[NEW YORK INSTITUTE — 2:47 AM]
Clary stood in the center of the ops room, arms wrapped around herself, demon ichor still drying on her skin. Simon hovered at her shoulder, visibly overwhelmed by the gothic architecture and the runes marking every surface.
Izzy had offered to find her clean clothes. Jace was explaining the basics — Shadowhunters, demons, the Shadow World hiding in plain sight. His voice carried the particular intensity he got when something captured his attention.
I stood near the coffee station, brewing two cups.
"You're handling this differently."
Hodge's voice came from behind me, pitched low enough that only I could hear. He'd been watching from the library doorway, weapons master assessing new arrivals.
"She's terrified," I said without turning. "Fear doesn't respond well to hostility."
"The original Alec would have—"
"The original Alec isn't here."
The words slipped out before I could stop them. Too honest, too revealing. I covered by adding: "Things change. People change. I'm trying something new."
Hodge was quiet for a moment. Then: "Valentine will know she's here. Fire message went out an hour ago — standard notification of significant events. He'll be very interested in Jocelyn Fairchild's daughter."
Of course he will. That's the whole point.
"Let him be interested. Right now, she needs coffee and kindness."
I crossed to where Simon stood awkwardly near the weapons rack, hands stuffed in his pockets, desperately trying not to touch anything. He flinched when I approached.
"Here." I offered him a cup. "It's just coffee. Regular mundane coffee."
He took it like it might explode. "Thanks. Um. You're... the scary one, right? The one who keeps glaring at everything?"
The scary one. I almost smiled.
"I'm Alec. Alec Lightwood." I gestured around the room. "Acting head of this Institute. You're safe here."
"Right. Safe. In the spooky church full of people with magic tattoos who fight demons." Simon laughed, high and nervous. "Totally normal. This is fine."
"It's a lot to process."
"You think?" He took a desperate gulp of coffee. "My best friend just got demon guts on her face, and apparently she can see monsters, and you people are... what, angel warriors? And that guy—" he gestured at Jace "—keeps looking at Clary like she's the most interesting thing he's ever seen, and I don't know what to do with any of this."
"Nobody expects you to." I kept my voice level. "Your job right now is to be here for your friend. Everything else can wait."
Simon blinked at me. "That's... actually helpful."
"I have my moments."
Across the room, Clary's phone rang. Her face went pale as she answered, listened, then disconnected with shaking hands.
"My mom." Her voice cracked. "My mom isn't answering at home. Something's wrong."
Jace was already moving toward the door. "We'll check it out."
I set down my coffee cup.
Valentine's people. Moving on Jocelyn while Clary was safely distracted at Pandemonium.
"I'm coming," I said.
Clary's apartment waited across the city, and I already knew what we'd find when we got there.
Read the raw, unfiltered story as it unfolds. Your support makes this possible!
Find it all at patreon.com/Whatif0
Timeline Viewer ($6): Get 10 chapters of early access + 5 new chapters weekly.
Timeline Explorer ($9): Jump 15-20 chapters ahead of everyone.
Timeline Keeper ($15): Get Instant Access to chapters the moment I finish writing them. No more waiting.