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?


2. Chapter 2

She watched the man who called himself "Father" warily. He still had her bound with that ... rune. He had disappeared with her mother to a different room. When he had returned, he sent his goons through that portal back to her home to search for whatever it was he was looking for. They came back empty-handed.

Clary and Valentine were staring each other down, black eyes boring into her green. She jumped when he moved towards her. He grabbed one hand, turned it over; he did the same with the other. His eyes met hers again, more noticeably calculating. "You do not have the Mark of the Angel."

Confusion crossed Clary's face. She asked, "What is the Mark of the Angel?" He smirked, opening his shirt enough to reveal the tattoo. Recognition showed on her face. "I've seen it before," she said quietly. "I've been drawing that for days!" She remembered coming home and finding her room covered in them.

Valentine grew thoughtful. "Why have you been drawing the same thing for days?"

"I don't know. I only noticed today. My room is covered with it."

He stood back, watching her. Fingering his white blonde goatee, he thought about what she said. His eyes widened minutely. "Clever, Jocelyn," he muttered to himself. He needed to run a test, but he was fairly sure Jocelyn had placed a block on Clary. "It seems your mother has been consorting with Downworlders." He shook his head.

"Downworlders? Shadowhunters? You keep mentioning them, but you never explain what they are!" 

He glared at her. He couldn't stand children who didn't have proper respect for their elders, but he could let it slide just this once. "Shadowhunters, also known as Nephilim." Seeing she didn't recognize either name, he continued, "Are half angel and half human. We are the sworn protectors of the human race from demons and Downworlders, demons in the guise of humans which are our vampires, werewolves and fae. Shadowhunters are Marked with the runes of Raziel, the Angel, which also help us in the battle against evil."

"Raziel?" Clary asked.

"The Angel. He blessed Jonathan Shadowhunter with the Mortal Cup," she saw something flash across his face at that word. "Which changed him  and others into a Nephilim, and the runes to help combat the demons that kept entering our world to destroy it, as the demons had destroyed their own. This started the Shadowhunter race.

"The Mark of the Angel, also known as Enkeli, is given to a Shadowhunter at the start of their training. Unlike some of the other marks, it is permanent." His mouth split into a grin. "Just as I have the Mark, so does Jocelyn."

Shaking her head, she disagreed, "I would have seen it."

Valentine privately added this to his growing support for the theory behind what his wife did to their daughter. "Be that as it may, she has it."

"My mother isn't a Shadowhunter," she denied, her head shaking. "You must have the wrong person." He grabbed her chin to stop the motion, but she continued, "She married Jonathan Christopher Fray. He is my father." His eyes widened. Then he chuckled darkly, releasing her chin.

"I can assure you he is not." His smile turned into one of sympathy. "I sought your mother for years, and when I finally found her, I saw she had a child, you." He shifted to a darker tone, "Fearing she had been an unfaithful wife, I had to investigate. Fortunately, I was proven wrong." He smiled. "You are my daughter. She hid you from me."

Disbelief showed on her face. Then Clary grew angry. "Maybe it was for good reason!" she spat.

"It was not," he returned. "Certain Downworlders used their silver tongues to estrange her from her family, just as Satan estranged Cain from Abel."

She didn't believe him, but it was getting too late into the evening for her to last much longer. Sighing, she tiredly begged, "What do you want with us? Please, just let us go."

"I can't let my wife nor you," he brushed a strand of red hair behind her ear, "my daughter, go." She couldn't look away from his intense eyes. "We are family. We have been reunited. And we will stay to together."


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