Valentine's Daughter

Clary decided to stay home, even though her mother was being unfair. Now she has new problems. Valentine may not know where the Mortal Cup is, but he has the chance to mold his daughter to his views. What will happen as he discovers her power with runes? Will he create another fallen angel?


1. Chapter 1

Clary told Simon to go on without her. Simon left without question. She promised to call him later.

After he was gone, she turned to her mother. She needed to have it out with her mom, once and for all. She was ablaze with anger. "What the hell, Mom?"

"I told you: we are going on vacation."

"And I told you I don't want to go on vacation," Clary snapped. "I have plans with Simon, and I was going to take those art classes."

"I will pay you back for the classes, but we have to go."

Clary glared at her mother. "Why is it so important for you to ruin my summer?"

"I'm not trying to ruin it."

Luke pushed himself up from the wall. "Jocelyn, just tell her. She needs to know."

"I need to know what?"

"Nothing," her mother snapped.

Clary glared at her. "I'm not a child anymore."

Jocelyn sighed, "I know you're not."

"Tell her," said Luke.

Defeatedly, she answered, "Fine." Shooting a glare at Luke, she continued, "I will tell you when we get to the farmhouse." Looking back at Clary, she pleaded, "Please, just pack."

"Okay," Clary said. She packed her things.


Their truck pulled up to the farmhouse. They climbed out of it. Clary grabbed her duffel bag and backpack, the backpack rested comfortably between her shoulders. Jocelyn was carrying a suitcase.

Clary followed her mother to the door. After unlocking it, they stepped through and walked down the hallway. They entered the living room. Just when Jocelyn was going to flip the light switch, the lights flashed on.

"Hello, Jocelyn," said a dark, alluring voice. It came from the tall, white blonde man. "It’s been too long." Jocelyn screamed and dropped the suitcase. Clary froze.

The blond man smiled, "Welcome back, darling."

"I didn't come back, Valentine," she spat, stepping in front of Clary. She hissed to Clary, "Run and don't look back."

"Mom?" Clary whispered, nervously.


Clary bolted down the hallway. Before she could get to the door, one of the men with Valentine grabbed her from behind. She screamed and tried to kick him. He lifted her up and one of the other men grabbed her feet. They carried her back to the living room.

"Really, Jocelyn?" the blond man laughed. "Did you really think our daughter could get away?"

Clary stopped struggling and looked over to the man. "Our daughter?" She began struggling again. Anger filling her voice, she yelled, "You are not my father, you creep!"

"Oh, you didn't tell her?" he asked, an evil grin spread on his face.

"You don't deserve the title of 'father,'" Jocelyn answered.

Clary stopped her struggling. Her eyes locked on her mother. "He's joking right? Dad's dead."

"That is what I want people to think, my dear." He spoke to the men with the black marks, "Place my daughter on the couch." The men sat Clary on the couch. They only held her down by her shoulders. The blonde man walked over to her and pulled out a white stick.

"No," Jocelyn firmly stated. "Don't use that."

"And why not, dearest?"

In a lower voice she said, "I've kept her from it. She has no place there. You have no right to drag her into it."

"I have every right. And it's about time I showed her." Lifting the white stick to Clary's eye-level, "This is a stele." With it, he quickly and precisely drew a pattern on her arm. She gasped in pain from the burn. She looked down at the mark. It looked like one of those tribal tattoos. "That is a rune." She tried to move away from him, but found she couldn’t. Seeing her panicked expression, "And it will keep you bound for the moment."

As he pocketed the stele, he turned around and sauntered up to Jocelyn. "I think you know what I'm here for."

"You can go to hell!" Jocelyn kicked him in the gut. She jumped backward and pulled a vial out of her jacket pocket. She downed its contents and looked at her daughter. "Clary, I love you." Her mother collapsed just as Valentine grabbed her arms.

"You bitch," her father growled. "Damn you, Jocelyn." He released her arms. After regaining some composure, he walked over to Clary. He caught her face in his hand and asked, "What's your name?"

"Why should I tell you?" she asked, fear tingeing her voice.

"I am your father," growled the blonde. His grip on her tightened, making her wince. "Now, what is your name?"

Her voice shaking, she answered, "Clarissa Fray, but everyone calls me Clary."

"Well, Clarissa," Valentine said. "I am Valentine Morgenstern, your father, and we're going home."

Clary's father walked over to a different corner of the room and opened what could only be a portal. One of the men pulled Clary from the couch and approached the portal, as Valentine picked Jocelyn up bridal style and carried her to the portal. Valentine stepped through first. The men carried Clary through next.

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