wicked441

[wicked441]

A Life in the Shadows

A Shadowhunter FanFic 11

Jem walked with Clary and Emma down the west end of the Institute. They passed tall stained glass windows that gave a wobbly glimpse of the moon.  Jem’s footsteps were hesitant, her gaze flickering up at the high ceilings and down the long corridor like she expected a trapdoor to open at any second.

Emma said she had been working on a surprise. 

“Here it is!” Emma had stopped in front of a seemingly random door. Jem wasn’t so sure what was so special about a door.

“A door.” Jem stated flatly. “One that looks just like all the others.”

Emma stared at her with annoyance, which made Jem instantly regret speaking her mind.

“I think the surprise is what’s behind the door.” Clary said. That was when Emma pushed the door open. 

It was grand, by her standards-The bed, a real bed, was large, with fluffy pillows and a comforter that looked like it had never known dust. A witch lamp illuminated the polished wooden flooring and pale blue walls. A wardrobe stood to the side, open just a crack to reveal clothes already set aside for her. There was even a desk, and books lined the far wall, titles embossed in gold and silver. 

It was much warmer than the room she had woken up in. The infirmary was clean, but it was also harsh with its white walls and stiff blankets. Not that Jem was used to anything different.

“This is going to be your bedroom.” Emma announced. Jem looked between the two girls, hesitating before taking careful, deliberate steps towards her new bed. 

“This is.. Mine?” Jem questioned.

“Absolutely! You didn’t think you would live in the infirmary, did you? Also, we thought you might like some privacy.” Something Jem had only notions of.

“Where is your room?” Jem wondered.

“I’m just down the hall. So if you need anything, I’ll be close by.” Jem was afraid to move too fast. Afraid she might break the illusion. After a moment, she allowed herself to relax on the bed. “We have to get back to the library. You stay here and get used to the space. There’s a lock from the inside, by the way. You get to choose who comes in here.” 

“I get to choose?” 

Emma nodded. “Yup! Now, do you want the door open or closed?”

Jem thought for a moment. “Closed, please.” 

“Sound’s good! We’ll come get you when it’s time for supper.” They left, the door made a soft click behind them and Jem could hear soft footsteps going away.

Jem was suspicious. Of what? She wasn’t quite sure, but her instincts told her to be on high alert. She darted to the door, opened it just a crack. She peered out and saw the backs of Emma and Clary, their hair swaying with each step. Quickly, before anyone could see her, Jem pulled the door closed and twisted the lock. She tugged a few times to be sure it wouldn’t open.

Jem made her way around the room, taking in every detail. It smelled of lavender, she noted. She checked the door, she looked in the corners, she inspected the books. She wasn’t quite sure what she was looking for, but the knot in her stomach loosened when she didn’t find any hidden doors or cameras.

She walked to the mirror on the wall and took a moment to really look at herself for the first time. Her reflection looked out of place here. Her eyes were wide and haunted. Her hair, long and blonde, had been braided, she assumed by Emma, while she had been asleep in the infirmary. She looked down her arms at the faint scars, some left by marks that burned, but never stayed. 

Others were long and jagged. Jem wondered if those had been there before the demons attacked her. She tried to remember, closed her eyes so tight, she gave herself a headache. 

Why would they give me this? she thought. Why would anyone trust me? Jem wanted nothing more than to trust Emma and Julian, but she could still feel the power beneath her skin, and that terrified her. Is this normal? I thought I had a normal life. Is that not what everyone experienced?

It isn’t true. She thought. Surly, if there is magic powerful enough to block my memories, they must be capable of giving me false memories of Father. 

She opened her eyes to the soft glow of witch light and looked at herself once again.

Her tank top hung loose over her too-thin frame. A bruise peeked above the neckline from where she’d hit the alley wall. She still had bandages around her left wrist and right knee. Her ankle throbbed with each step, so she took to an uneven stance which affected her posture. 

She’d had enough and found a seat at the desk. She opened one of the drawers and found paper and pencils. That’s what I’ll do. The idea came to her quickly. I’ll write down everything so I can remember. She jotted down everything she could remember about Father and the marks he would leave on her skin. She wrote about that night Julain and Emma saved her and what had occurred since she woke up here, in the institute. In the end, she wrote down a few more sentences to make sense of her stirring mind.

I am Jem. I am not a shadowhunter. I do not trust the Clave. Do I trust Emma and Julian? The shadowhunters are probably lying to me. 

A tapping came from behind the door, making Jem jump before she remembered she’d locked it. You get to choose who comes in here. Emma’s voice reminded her. “Jem? It’s time to eat!” Emma’s voice was muffled through the door. 

“Okay. I’m coming.” Jem quickly stuffed the paper into the desk drawer, slamming it shut before Joining the others.

[wicked441]

A Life in the Shadows

A Shadowhunter FanFic 9 & 10

Part 9:

The sun was just beginning to set, bleeding rose-gold light through the infirmary windows. The fading warmth painted the room in soft hues that couldn’t quite erase the tension. Emma sat at the foot of the bed, hands loosely clasped, watching Jem huddled at the head, back pressed to the headboard like she might disappear into it.

“Here,” Emma said gently, holding out a glass of steaming, cloudy liquid. “Drink this.”

Jem took it with hesitation, sniffing the surface. Her brow wrinkled. “What is it?”

“Tisanes. It’s kind of like a potion—Clary taught me how to make it the last time I visited New York. She said it helps when you’re too shaken to eat. It fills you up and calms you down.”

Jem sipped it slowly, her wary eyes never leaving Emma’s. After a few gulps, something in her shoulders relaxed. She drank the rest in one go.

Emma smiled. “Better?”

Jem nodded, licking a drop from her bottom lip. “Can I have more?”

“In a bit,” Emma said, taking the empty glass and setting it on the bedside table. “Let’s not shock your system all at once.”

There was a quiet moment, not quite peaceful, but still. Jem rubbed her hands against the fabric of the blanket like she wasn’t sure whether she was allowed to feel comfort.

Emma took a slow breath, then said, “Jem, there’s something I need to tell you. Some people are coming to the Institute to meet you. They’re good people. We trust them.”

Jem straightened her posture. “It is that Mag.. Mago guy.”

Emma laughed softly. “Magnus. Yes. He’s a warlock. A good one. And he’s bringing some Shadowhunters with him. Alec, Clary, and Jace.” She paused, the admiration obvious in her tone. “They’re the best we’ve got.”

Jem narrowed her eyes. “Emma, I’m not sure.. I can’t remember anything.”

“Well the Clave just wants to make sure of that.” 

Emma expected to have to explain who the Clave were, but Jem perked up at the sound of the name. She knew who they were. “I won’t talk to the Clave.” Jem sprung to her feet with new found strength. “I won’t. You can’t trust them.” Her voice was edgy, steely and scared.

“You know the Clave?” Emma questioned. 

“I know enough,” Jem hissed. Her voice shook with a memory. “I know they’ll kill me if they find me. Did you tell them I was here?”

“Jem.. I..” Emma stood slowly, her hands raised in a calming manor. “No. I didn’t tell them. Julian didn’t either. We were going to because it’s protocol, but the clave already knew about you.”

Jem shook her head and started to pace with her arms wrapped around her stomach. “I have to leave, Emma. I need to get out of here.” Jem tried to push past Emma, who caught her around the waist. Emma was able to pick her up like one of the Blackthorn kids. “I can’t stay here!”

“Where are you gonna go, Jem? You have nowhere to go.” Jem stopped trying to fight. Her face went pale, eyes glassy with something dark.

You have nowhere to go. Nowhere to run and no one who cares about you. I am the only one who will keep you safe. It was Father’s voice in her head. 

“You said you would keep me safe.” Jem whispered.

“And I will.” Emma said firmly. “I promise on my marks, on the angle. It is my sworn duty.”

“But you don’t understand!” Jem tried to raise her voice again, but it was a mixture of whispers and weeps. “There is a darkness in me I can’t explain. Powers I don’t know how to stop!”

“Jem, remember what I told you. You have the entire Nephilim race on your side, okay?” Jem nodded. “Jace, Alec, and Clary are nephilim.”

“Not Magnus. He’s a warlock.”

“Magnus is married to Alec and has nephilim children. He’s on our side.”

“But the clave…” Jem whispered. 

Emma cut her off by gently brushing an unruly strand of hair behind Jem’s ear. “We work with them, yes, but I’ve seen these guys break more rules than I can count. Especially when the Clave is wrong.” 

Jem settled, but was still uneasy. She looked down at the palms of her hands before wiping them on the blanket. “Do I have to?” Her breathing was uneven. Not panicked, just scared.

“Not until you’re ready.” Emma placed a hand on Jem’s shoulder. “But you might find it helpful to talk to Clary. She was thrown into this world too. Just like you. She gets it.”

The ground beneath them trembled. A low rumble rolled through the walls, making the infirmary windows rattle. The curtains danced with the motion, shedding flecks of dust.

Emma looked up. “That’ll be the portal. I assume that's them arriving early.”

She turned to Jem and offered her hand. “Come on. Let’s get you dressed. You don’t have to say a word if you don’t want to. But you should see who we’re trusting.”

Jem hesitated. But after a long beat, she took Emma’s hand.

Part 10:

Emma had hoped some of her old clothes might fit Jem, but in the end, they’d raided Dru’s closet. Jem was smaller and slighter than Emma had realized—now swallowed in loose jeans and a plain black tank top. Dru hadn’t protested much, but her silence had said everything. Emma made a mental note to buy her sister something nice.

As they walked down the hallway, Jem’s eyes flicked around, wide with quiet awe. The Institute’s corridors were lined with ancient portraits and gleaming weapons, all framed by dark, gothic architecture. She didn’t seem afraid—just alert, as if cataloging exits and measuring risks.

They stopped in front of the library’s arched double doors. “Here we are,” Emma said gently. “Are you ready?”

Jem stared at the doors like they might devour her. “I can’t…”

But before she could finish, Emma pushed them open. The hinges creaked. Jem flinched.

Emma suspected she’d have said no. No, I’m not ready to face strangers who serve the Clave. But she’d started to trust Emma—just barely.

The library glowed with warm lamplight and the low hum of conversation. Julian looked up first. “Jem, Emma. Come in, have a seat.”

Emma stepped forward, but paused when she noticed Jem hadn’t moved. She lingered in the doorway, arms folded tight around herself.

Emma turned, giving her a reassuring nod. “It’s okay. Let me introduce you.” Jem’s feet felt like lead in cement shoes, but she followed.

Across the room, Julian, Jace, and Alec stood near a towering bookshelf that scraped the ceiling. Jace leaned against it like he owned the place—which, knowing Jace, he probably felt like he did. Alec stood with arms crossed, his gaze sharp and unreadable. Julian murmured something, but all three fell silent as Jem passed.

A circle of couches surrounded a low table scattered with books and coffee mugs. Magnus lounged cross-legged in an armchair; Clary sat across from him. Emma perched on the armrest beside where Jem reluctantly lowered herself. She looked like she wished she could disappear.

Emma went on to introduce everyone and let Clary start the questioning. Clary offered a kind smile. “Let’s start simple. Do you remember where you were living before you came here?”

Jem’s eyes darted to Emma, pleading. Do I have to say it? Am I safe? 

Emma gave a slow nod. You’re safe.

“I don’t know where it was,” Jem whispered. “A big house. I… I lived in the basement. I wasn’t allowed upstairs without permission. The doors were always locked. If I tried to leave without permission, he’d—” She paused. “Father would chain me to the wall.”

A stunned silence fell over the group, even Magnus’s smirk vanished. "Who is 'Father'?" He asked.

“Father?” Jem shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t even remember his face.” Everyone watched her like they expected her to do a circus trick, but no one seemed amused. “But he had marks. Runes. That’s what Emma called them.”

“You said he kept his, but yours always faded?” Clary asked. "Emma filed us in a little." Jem nodded and shrank further into the couch. After a beat too long and glances shared amongst everyone, Clary continued. “Okay. Let’s talk about the night Emma and Julian found you. Why were you behind the courthouse? Why did you run from them?”

Jem twisted her fingers, knuckles white. “I was on a task. For Father. Get the pack. Come back. Don’t be seen. Don’t stray. Those are the rules. But Emma and Julian—they saw me. I panicked.”

“Why did your father need those Downworlder tokens?” Alec asked, stepping forward. His voice was calm, but firm. “Do you know how many Downworlders had to die for—”

“Alexander,” Magnus cut in, raising two fingers. “Let her speak.”

“I didn’t know what I was taking,” Jem said, eyes welling up with tears. “Not until that night. Someone in a hood always handed me the bag. I wasn’t allowed to look inside.”

Magnus raised a brow. “Sounds like the world’s worst scavenger hunt.”

“The pack wasn’t with you when we found you,” Julian said, approaching. “What happened to it?”

Jem’s breath hitched. Flashes of memory—shouts, pain, abandonment. “He.. He came through a portal. Father did. He took the pack and closed the portal before I could follow. He left me there. I think… I think demons attacked me. I thought Julian and Emma attacked me, then the memory came back.” Her voice trembled. “He told me, ‘You can’t escape what’s coming for you.’ Then everything went dark. I thought me meant I couldn't escape the Shadowhunters.” Jem spat out that last work like is was an insult. 

“Sounds like he sent them,” Jace muttered. Jem shuddered with the sudden voice in her head, Father's. I am the only person who can keep you safe. Had that been a lie, too?

“Jem,” Emma said gently, “tell them about your powers.”

Jem stiffened. Magnus straightened. The others leaned in. “I… I don’t want to—”

“You said they’re out of your control,” Emma pushed her, hoping she wasn't pushing too much. “What did you mean?”

Jem took a deep breath. “I know I have them,” she murmured. “But Father said using them was a sin. A sin against the Angel.”

“How do you know you have them?” Magnus asked.

Jem hesitated, then lifted her wrist, tracing a faint scar. “He said I was too slow and marked me here. I don’t know how, but… fire came out of my hands. I didn’t mean to. I was scared, it burned." Jem paused as she remembers. "Father slapped me. Said I was evil. Demented.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.” A single tear fell down her cheek. Suddenly, she bolted upright, panic in her eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you!” She backed into an end table, making it rattle. 

Alec instinctively stepped forward, but caught himself. Jace shot him a glance—easy.

“No one thinks you will,” Clary said calmly. “It’s okay, Jem.”

Magnus stood and approached slowly, hand extended—not to grab, just to offer. “I believe you,” he said softly. “You know, you have the same name as one of my oldest friends. He was brave and selfless. I think you’ve got some of that in you.” Jem blinked, startled. Something in his tone cut through the panic, and she let him guide her back to the couch. “May I touch your temple?” he asked.

She looked around, then nodded. The moment his fingers brushed her skin, Jem jolted. Her head snapped back, eyes rolling white. Emma jumped up, but Magnus didn’t let go.

Jem gasped, clutching her chest. “By the Angel! What the fuck was that?!”

“Jem!” Julian hissed.

Magnus blinked, clearly impressed. “Well. That was colorful.” He turned serious. “But, you’ve got a mental block the size of Idris in there. Someone very powerful put it in place. It’s not just hiding your memories, it's suppressing your powers.”

“Can you remove it?” Alec asked.

Magnus shook his head. “No. I’ve never seen anything like it. It's much stronger than any block I've created.” Magnus threw a quick glance at Clary.

Jace folded his arms. “So what now?”

Magnus looked around. “Now? We wait. We observe. We listen and we give her time.” He looked at Jem and smiled. “And maybe a cookie. She’s had a hell of a day.”

Jem let out a soft, startled laugh—barely a sound, but it was something.

Emma smiled. It wasn’t much. But it was a beginning.

[wicked441]

A Life in the Shadows

A Shadowhunter Fanfic 7 & 8

Part 7:

"Shadowhunters?" Jem asked. "What is that?"

"You don't know what shadowhunters are?" The blonde, who Jem now knew as Emma, used a soft voice. It was a comforting change from the piercing screeches she was accustomed to hearing back home, Though, now, Jem couldn't remember exactly where her home was. Instead of answering, Jem only shook her head. "We protect mundanes from Demons. We have these runes," Emma shrugged off her jacket and showed her arms. "They help us by giving us angelic powers. We can only use them because of our angel blood."

Jem sat up at the sight of them. "I remember those, kind of. They burn." She knew what the marks were, but couldn't quite place their fleeting familiarity. "Father keeps his, but mine always fade." She reached out, yet hesitated. Her finger hovered a moment before lightly brushing a rune on Emma's forearm. The skin beneath is it was warm, and the black mark pulsed like it was alive.

"Who's your Father?" Julian asked. “Is he a shadowhunter? Are you?”

Jem tried to remember his face, his name… Anything about Father, but her mind went frustratingly blank. "I-I don't know."

Julian sat up with obvious annoyance he was trying so hard to conceal. "You can't remember at all?"

"I don't know." Jem matched Julian's annoyance levels. "The memory.. It was there, but I can't get it back."

Emma and Julian finally tore their eyes from Jem. Both seemed to be thinking with great concern. Emma paced a few steps away. "He called me Jamie. But I always wished to be called Jem." The pair snapped their attention back to the girl. "That's my name. You never asked."

"I'm sorry." Julian said after a brief moment of shock. "We should have been more polite. Our minds tend to stay on solving mysteries." Julian stood up and stated. "I'm gonna call Magnus. I think he'll know better what's going on." He stalked out of the infirmary before Jem could ask who that was.

When he was gone, Jem looked toward Emma for answers.

"Magnus is the high warlock of Brooklyn." Jem was only more confused. Warlock? Brooklyn? Jem didn't know what to think.

"Those are just made up words."

Emma found her way to the edge of the bed as she did a quick run down of the definitions and reassured Jem that Magnus might be able to help her remember, "He's a very good friend of ours. He's been able to help others, like you, and he's seen more than anyone else." Emma realized she had not paused to let Jem take in everything that was being thrown at her. "Look, I know this must be a lot for you." Emma cupped Jem's hands in her own and leaned forward.

"You think?"

"We will help you Jem. You've got the entire Nephlim race on your side."

"My side?" Jem looked down at her hips.

"It's a figure of speech." Emma snuffed a giggle. "It means all shadowhunters, who are bound to protect this world, will do everything to keep you safe."

"Safe." Jem felt a sense of relief for the first time in what seemed like forever. Finally, someone's hands were holding her instead of hurting her. Jem's eyelids grew heavy. Despite her fight to stay awake, to learn more about this world, she was too comfortable and the weakness took over her body once more.

Part 8:

Julian sprawled out in one of the many chairs that littered the Institute. This particular one sat beneath the high windows of the foyer, drenched in afternoon light that didn’t quite reach his thoughts. His phone dangled loosely in one hand; the other raked through his hair in a futile attempt to tame it.

His eyes drifted to the carpet, where faint smudges of dried blood still clung to the fibers—Jem’s blood. He made a mental note to clean it up later. Or maybe Magnus would have a spell for that. Magnus always had a spell.

He let his mind busy itself with small details, anything to keep it off the weight crushing his chest. Jem. Fragile and frightened. The bruises on her skin looked like watercolor stains—dark at the edges, soft in the center, like something that didn’t belong in a child’s story. But it wasn’t the bruises that haunted him. It was how easily his mind replaced her image with another—Livvy. The sister he couldn’t save.

He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the memory back. When he opened them, they locked on the infirmary door. His call with Magnus had ended minutes ago, but he hadn’t moved since. He didn’t want to go back in. He couldn’t bear to see Emma and risk her seeing the guilt in his eyes. Or worse—see Jem and feel it all over again. That same helplessness. That same fear he wouldn’t be able to save her, either.

With a sigh heavy enough to weigh down his bones, Julian pushed himself to his feet. He shoved his phone into his pocket, squared his shoulders, and walked toward the infirmary. He didn’t bother softening his steps.

The door creaked as he pushed it open, and Emma’s head snapped up.

“Shh!” she hissed, holding a finger to her lips and glancing toward the bed.

Jem was curled up tightly beneath the blankets, her small body at rest, but her face—tensed even in sleep—portrayed the unrest still clinging to her.

Julian didn’t speak. He just motioned to Emma, jerking his head toward the hallway. She hesitated for a moment, brushing Jem’s hair back gently before following him out.

Once the door clicked shut behind them, they spoke in full volume again.

“Magnus will be here in a day or two.”

“The sooner the better.” Emma sighed in feigned relief. “It’s time we get some answers.”

“No doubt. It seems the Clave knew about the girl before Magnus even got back to Brooklyn.

“The girl?” Emma questioned his refusal to use her name. “You mean Jem?” Julian nodded, but didn’t look Emma in the eye. “How did they know about her before anyone could write a report? How long have they known about this?”

“They knew before Magnus even got back to Brooklyn. A vampire den in Brazil submitted surveillance footage after a raid. All the vamps had their fangs removed—and the girl showed up shortly after, taking a package from a cloaked figure.”

Emma stiffened. “Like the one you saw at the courthouse?”

Julian didn’t answer right away. Something in Emma’s tone—too sharp, too inquisitive—grated against him. He was unraveling, and she kept tugging at the threads.

“I don’t know,” he said flatly. “I don’t have all the answers, Emma. I need to go prepare rooms. We’ll be having guests.”

“Guests? Who else besides Magnus?”

Before he could reply, a door down the hall banged open.

“Jules!” Ty came running out, waving a fire-message in the air like a victorious messenger from a war front. “You’ve got to read this!”

Julian took the note, glancing at the wax seal as he broke it open. Emma leaned over to read along.

He read aloud, voice tightening with each line:

“To the Head of the Los Angeles Institute—”

Julian raised a brow at that, but kept going.

“We are writing to inform you of the placement of Lindsey Blackwell at your Institute for her Field Work Year. The Ascendent’s placement will serve as assistance in the ongoing investigation, as well as continued training and education. Ascendents should focus on preparing their thesis, due one year after placement…”

He skimmed the rest, expression unreadable. “Looks like I need to prepare an extra bedroom.”

He handed the letter off to Emma and strode off down the corridor. Ty fell into step beside him, practically buzzing with questions.

Emma stood in the hallway for a moment longer, the letter crinkling in her hand, her eyes flicking back to the infirmary door. Jem was still inside—still a mystery.

And Julian? He was already moving on to the next task.

[wicked441]

A Life in the Shadows

A Shadowhunter Fanfic 5 & 6

Part 5:

The truck rumbled down the empty roads, headlights cutting through the fog that had settled over Los Angeles like a heavy blanket. Julian kept one hand steady on the wheel and one eye rested unconscious girl in the back seat. She was laid on the back seat, Julian's jacket draped over her like a makeshift blanket.

Emma sat in the passenger seat, phone still in her hand. "Magnus is opening a portal directly into the infirmary," she said, glancing at Julian. "He'll be waiting when we get there."

Julian nodded, eyes flicking between the road and the rearview mirror. "Good. She doesn't look great."

Emma turned slightly to look at the girl. There was something unsettling about her stillness—too quiet, too fragile. But then there was also something familiar in the way she'd moved, the way she fought. She wasn't trained, not like them, but she had instincts. Dangerous ones.

The Institute loomed ahead, gothic and ancient despite the city's sprawling modern chaos. As they pulled through the gates, golden runes shimmered faintly along the stonework, reacting to their presence.

Inside, the portal was already open—bright blue energy swirling in the center of the entrance hall. Magnus came through, wearing one of his more understated outfits (which, for Magnus, still included at least two rings, a shimmering purple scarf, and glitter along his cheekbones).

"Good timing." he said. "And you've brought a guest, I see."

Julian didn't waste time. He lifted the girl into his arms and stepped through the front door without another word.

The group moved quickly to the Institute's infirmary. White walls, clean sheets, and the faint smell of healing herbs filled the air. Magnus was already conjuring a spell, his hands glowing with gold and violet as Julian set the girl in the nearest bed. Magnus waved his magic over the girl's body.

Emma stood by the doorway, arms crossed, watching.

"Well?" she asked.

"She's alive," Magnus said, his voice calm but curious. "Took a hit from something big. Likely would have died if you hadn't found her."

"She took out Julian," Emma said flatly. "With one kick."

Magnus's brows lifted. "Really?"

"I wasn't expecting it," Julian muttered.

"She had a bag full of Downworlder tokens," Emma added. "Vampire fangs, fairy wings, werewolf claws. All real."

Magnus paused, one hand still hovering above the girl. "That… is concerning."

"She didn't speak to us" Julian said. "But she can see through glamours and she moved like she's been trained. Though, she seemed pretty scared of us seeing her."

Julian and Emma exchanged a glance.

"I'll keep her stable," Magnus continued. "But if you want answers, you'll need to wait until she wakes up."

Emma looked at the girl again—bruised, pale, unconscious, but somehow still unreadable.

"She better have answers," she muttered.

Because one thing was clear: whoever this girl was, she wasn't just another mundane caught up in the wrong world.

She belonged to it.

Part 6:

Julian watched over the bed where the girl lay. He took in her small, pail frame. She was almost as white as a vampire. Has she ever seen the sun? He wondered.

She had been in the institute for over a week. In that time, whenever she moved or whined, Magnus always did something to make her quiet again.

"It's best for her to sleep." Magnus would say when Julian questioned why she wasn't awake yet. "Allow her body to focus on healing, for now."

Julian didn't like it, but he knew Magnus was right. Both he and Emma had been restrained on bed rest more than once. At least we have runes. He thought.

Magnus returned to his family only a night ago, yet the faint glow of magic still lingered in the air, but the hum had quieted down. The girl was visibly stronger, though she hadn't awoken yet. Her chest visibly rose and fell with each breath. She was currently moving, slightly. A twitch of an arm or leg made Julian wonder if she was dreaming. He wondered what brought her into such trouble with demons.

He couldn't quite place it, but there was a pull, a curiosity that gnawed at him. She was unlike anyone he had ever met. She wasn't a Shadowhunter, yet she had strength. She wasn't trained, yet she moved precision. The way she had fought… It wasn't normal.

He leaned forward, his elbow resting on the edge of the bed. Her features were soft in the light of the infirmary, but there was a hardness behind her closed eyelids, like she was waiting for something, bracing herself for an attack that never came.

"Who are you?" Julian whispered under his breath, though he knew she couldn't hear him. The question echoed in his mind, but there were no answers yet. He didn't even know where to begin. She was an enigma, a puzzle that had appeared out of nowhere.

There was no visible sign of any tattoos or runes on her skin, no markings that indicated her as anything other than a mundane human. But something told him that she was anything but. Even Magnus had sensed it. If Julian looked long enough, he could convince himself that he saw faint scars of old runes. He brushed it off as wishful thinking, an easy answer.

A faint noise broke through his thoughts—a soft shift, the rustle of blankets. Julian straightened up, his focus snapping to the girl's face. Her eyelids fluttered, and for a moment, he thought she might wake. But then they closed again, and her breath remained steady, though slightly quicker.

Emma had stepped into the room silently, and when she saw Julian's expression, she didn't need to ask what was going through his mind.

"She's not going anywhere," Emma said softly, walking to his side. "She'll wake up when she's ready."

"I know," Julian replied quietly. But even as he said it, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were in a race against time. There was something about her that felt… off, like they were waiting for something more than her just waking up.

Emma studied him for a moment, then glanced at the girl in the bed. "You're worried about her, aren't you?"

Julian didn't answer right away. He wasn't sure how to put it into words, but there was a truth there that Emma knew he wasn't ready to admit out loud.

"I don't know what I'm worried about," Julian finally said. "I just feel like we're missing something. The last time a mundane turned up out of nowhere…"

Emma stood still for a moment, then nodded. "It's okay to be worried. We don't know what's going on..." She paused, looking at the girl. "But we'll find out. Whatever she's connected to, we'll figure it out. Just don't… rush into anything."

Julian turned to look at Emma, his eyes dark with something he couldn't fully explain. "I won't let anything happen to her."

Emma raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything more. Instead, she moved to the window, looking out at the city beyond the Institute. The night felt heavy, thick with unspoken questions.

Julian's gaze returned to the girl in the bed, and as he watched, he stirred again, this time more noticeably, a small sound escaping her lips. Her brow furrowed slightly, and her fingers twitched at the edge of the blanket. Julian's heart rate quickened, and he stood up, stepping closer to her.

"Hey," he said softly, just above a whisper, not sure if she could hear him or not. "It's okay. You're safe now."

Her eyes snapped open suddenly, wide and frantic, as if she had been thrown into consciousness by something sharp. She looked around the room quickly, her breath quickening as her gaze landed on Julian.

Her eyes—those strange, intense eyes—locked onto his, and for a split second, there was an almost knowing recognition. But then it vanished, replaced by the wariness that had been there since they first met.

"Who… who are you?" she snapped in a raspy, hoarse, voice.

Julian's pulse raced, and for a moment, he could only stare at her, the weight of the question hanging in the air.

"I should be asking you the same thing," he said gently, keeping his distance, not wanting to make her feel cornered. "But I'm Julian. This," he gestured toward Emma. "This is Emma. You're at the Institute. You're safe here."

Her eyes flickered, searching his face as if she was trying to read him. "The Institute? I… I don't understand."

"You don't have to," Julian said, trying to offer some reassurance. "But you're safe. Just rest."

But the girl didn't look reassured. She looked confused, lost, and something deeper—something darker—lingered in her gaze.

"No," she whispered, her voice shaking. She was quick to throw herself off the bed. She must not have realized how weak she was. She stumbled and fell, giving in to a quick crawl, all just to get away.

Julian moved to catch her by the waist and put her back on the bed. She fought him, kicking and punching his back. Julian took note of just how much weaker she was after the attack. "Stop. Stop!" He was quick to catch himself, but not before pinning her arms down.

"Julian!" Emma made him stop, but he didn't release her arms.

"Look," Julian started assertively, yet calm. "We are not going to hurt you. As long as you stop hurting me."

"We don't know what you've been through, but we promise to help you and keep you safe." Emma stated.

"Help me? You nearly killed me!" The girl spat in Julian's face.

"Wait! What?" Emma and Julian exclaimed at the same time.

"Why would we do that?"

“I- I don’t know.” Jem tried to remember what happened. Slowly, picture became more clear.

Julian loosened his grip and sat back. "We didn't attack you. We saved you from a swarm of demons. That's what shadowhunters do." Julian explained.

"Shadowhunters?" The girl questioned. "What is that?"

[wicked441]

A Life in the Shadows

A Shadowhunter FanFic 3 & 4

Part 3:

Emma dropped to a lower balcony, crouching briefly before standing, eyes fixed on the girl below. Meanwhile, Julian was already on the street level, melted into the shadows like a seasoned predator. Emma waited, patient and coiled, until the girl was right where they needed her—under the flickering glow of a yellow streetlamp.

Convenient. Almost too convenient.

She wouldn't admit it to Julian, but if this girl turned out to be just another mundane, she'd be pretty disappointed. Emma was bone-tired, but she'd never leave Julian to chase leads alone. Not for her own comfort. Not ever.

The girl stepped into the light.

Emma landed—graceful and silent—one hand steadying her crouch before she rose to her full height. The girl's eyes darted toward the sudden movement, startled.

Interesting.

If she'd kept looking straight ahead, she would have missed Emma entirely. That kind of awareness wasn't typical. Not for a mundane.

"What's wrong?" Emma asked, her tone half-curious, half-testing. "Got somewhere to be?"

The girl looked like a cornered animal. Then Julian appeared from the shadows behind her, silent as death, and tugged the pack off her shoulders in one swift motion. Before she could even turn fully, he was digging through it.

"Let's see…" he muttered, pulling out small bags and letting their contents spill onto the pavement. "Vampire fangs… werewolf claws… fairy wings?"

He looked up at Emma with a raised brow, a cocky grin curling on his lips. "Now what does a mundane do with all of these Downworlder tokens?"

"I… uhm… I'm not—" the girl stammered, her voice weak. She didn't finish. Instead, she snatched the pack back from Julian with surprising speed and stuffed the contents inside, her fingers shaking.

"Where'd you get this stuff?" Julian asked, voice sharper now. "You can't have acquired all this on your own."

He knelt to her eye level, trying to read her. But before he could say anything else, she lashed out—her boot colliding with his shoulder. The blow sent him sprawling.

"Julian!" Emma rushed to help him, caught off guard by the girl's strength.

By the time Julian was back on his feet, the girl had vanished into the alleyways.

"Did you see where she went?" he asked, scanning the darkness.

"No. It's a maze back here." Emma raised her witchlight, the glow cutting a pale path forward.

Julian lit his own and they split slightly, covering more ground. Emma moved cautiously, checking behind dumpsters and broken fences. Julian took the lead, disappearing around a corner.

After several frustrating minutes, Emma was just about ready to call it.

"You don't think she—" she began, but was cut off by a sudden, piercing scream.

"Never mind," she breathed, already running.

They darted through the maze of alleys, stumbling through wrong turns, the scream echoing around them. Finally, Julian grabbed Emma's elbow and pointed. She followed without hesitation, and they emerged into a small clearing between buildings.

A pack of demons—black, scaled, with twisting spines and gnashing teeth—surrounded a crumpled form on the ground.

Emma felt another tug at her elbow. She turned. Julian met her eyes, his expression unreadable but sharp. They didn't need to speak. They never did.

She gave a single nod.

Julian struck first, his seraph blade gleaming white as he plunged it into the nearest demon. Emma followed with Cortana, the blade singing as it sliced clean through another. The demons shrieked, lashing out with claws and teeth, but they were no match for two seasoned Shadowhunters working in perfect tandem. Within seconds, the alley fell silent.

That's when they saw her.

The crumpled form wasn't just a girl. It was the girl—the same one they'd just chased off.

Julian knelt beside her, pressing two fingers to her wrist. She stirred slightly, a soft, wounded whimper slipping from her lips.

"She's alive," he confirmed, scooping her into his arms with surprising gentleness. "We can take her back to the Institute. Call Magnus—he can open a portal and keep her stable."

Emma was already on her phone, dialing with one hand as she moved to open the truck's back doors.

"Already on it," she said. "Let's go."

Part 4:

Darkness pulsed behind her eyes.

Jem was running. Her feet slammed against the damp pavement, echoing off the alley walls. Trash cans blurred past in her peripheral vision, fire escapes loomed overhead like skeletal limbs. She wondered if she should take one as an escape route, but knew she didn't have time.

Her breath tore from her throat, raw and ragged. The weight of the pack on her back dug into her shoulders, heavy with the burden she hadn't been fast enough to deliver.

She turned a corner—sharp, nearly slipped—and for a moment, she was alone again.

Then the shadows split open.

A sickening tear in reality peeled across the far wall, a shimmering blue-gray portal that hissed as it opened with a whirl of wind. Cold air shot out with enough force to knock her to the ground. Jem's head was the cushion to her fall.

From the center stepped an all too familiar figure wrapped in dark robes, his hood low. As he bent down to h Jem's level, it became clear who it was.

"Father," she whispered.

His presence froze her in place, more effective than any rune.

He didn't speak right away. Instead, he reached out a hand. "Where is it?"

"I—I have it," she stammered, slipping the pack off her shoulder and holding it out with trembling hands. "I was almost there. I was just—"

"You were seen." His voice was calm, but his words sliced like knives. "You let them see you."

"I didn't mean to," she breathed, eyes wide. "They were just... I didn't even talk to them."

"You failed." His tone didn't rise. It didn't need to. "You let them get close enough to touch what is mine." He stepped forward and ripped the pack from her hands. She flinched, but didn't resist. "You have failed and now you cannot escape what is coming for you."

Jem tried to stand, but her knees buckled. "Please," she whispered.

But he was already turning, stepping back toward the portal, the pack now clutched in one hand. He didn't even look back before the portal snapped shut.

She was alone. At first, it was just silence. The alley was quiet, empty.

Then came the sound—low, guttural growls. She slowly turned, and her stomach dropped. They poured out of the darkness: creatures twisted by ichor and rage, eyes glowing with hunger. Demons. Six of them. Maybe more. She couldn't count. She didn't breathe.

The first one lunged.

She turned to run, but something snapped her ankle. She screamed out in pain as another slashed her back. She fell, hitting the pavement with a thud, the air ripped from her lungs. Claws tore at her arm. Teeth sank into her shoulder. She screamed—but the sound was swallowed by the void.

Blackness surged up to meet her.

Then, without warning—light.

She gasped awake, heart pounding. Her eyes flung open to a white ceiling. Warm air. Clean sheets. The smell of herbs and magic. She was in a bed. Her limbs, wrapped bandages, ached. Her vision swam in circles as she sat up.

A figure stood nearby, watching her with wide, cautious eyes. He was the only thing that stood steady in the spinning room.

She scrambled back against the pillows, breath coming fast.

"Hey," he said quickly, gently. "It's okay. You're safe."

But she didn't feel safe. Not anymore.

[wicked441]

A Life in the Shadows

A Shadowhunter FanFic 1 & 2

In the shadows of Los Angeles, a mystery awakens.

When Emma Carstairs and Julian Blackthorn discover an unconscious girl in the middle of a demon-ravaged street, they don’t expect her to be carrying Downworlder tokens—or to radiate a power even seasoned Shadowhunters can’t explain. The girl, who calls herself Jem, remembers nothing of her past but is plagued by visions, instincts no mundane should have, and a fear of the Clave that runs bone-deep.

As Jem slowly recovers in the LA Institute, secrets unravel. Julian wrestles with guilt and a fierce need to protect her, while Emma suspects there’s more to Jem’s past than even she knows. When Lindsey, a top-of-her-class Shadowhunter assigned to help, arrives, Jem finally meets someone her own age—someone who sees past the fear and into the fire within her.

But the Clave is coming. So are answers. And neither may be kind.

Is Jem the weapon of something dark—or the key to stopping it?

Part 1:

Jem doesn't know where in this world she is, but she knows where she's going. Her photographic memory is her most valuable tool, her only real advantage. If she were lucky, Father would give her more than a short while to memorize mostly empty maps, or sometimes a simple list of directions."Turn left at the green building,"or"Wait near the red trash can."That was all he gave her. That was all he ever gave her.

Today, she is on her most familiar route. Nothing new to memorize. Just retrieve and return. In and out. No mistakes. She just needs to remember to get back to the portal with whatever it was Father sent her out for. That part was fuzzy. He never explained the "what"—only thewhere, and even that in riddles.

The portal drops her in an empty field, just like always. No warning, no grace. She tumbles to her side, the grass cold and damp beneath her fingertips. The wind nips at her neck, but she's used to it. Standing up, Jem brushes the dirt from her side and thighs. Her eyes scan the dark horizon and immediately land on the path she needs to take. It's dimly illuminated by a few flickering lampposts, their pale yellow glow casting long shadows across the cracked pavement.

She sets off with silent urgency, her boots crunching softly against the gravel as she walks. The direction is the same as always: toward the tall buildings with flashy, more colorful lights—the ones that seem to pulse with synthetic life. Neon signs blink and buzz overhead. Street ads flicker in languages she doesn't understand. Somewhere out there, in the space between here and the field, is the answer Father wants.

It takes her a while to reach the drop point: the dark space behind the red-bricked courthouse. It stands defiantly among the grey slate buildings that tower overhead, like a relic of a different era, untouched by the gleaming modernization around it.

Despite the ridicule she'll surely face when she returns to Father, Jem slows her pace. The punishment is a given—he'll surely burn her with a speed mark for taking too long—but it'll fade just as fast as it's drawn. Still, it stings. It always does.

The cloaked one arrives at the same time as Jem. They appear from the shadows like smoke curling into form, wordless as ever. No face, no name, no skin, no voice. Just a hood, a hand, a package. Jem reaches for it, the transfer as brief and cold as a passing wind.

They never speak. They never linger. But they always know her.

Jem doesn't watch them leave. She doesn't need to. Her feet are already moving again, retracing the route in reverse. She keeps her head down as she walks, letting her thoughts drift but not stray too far. There's no time to wonder what's in the pack. That curiosity cost her once before. Father made sure she learned that lesson well.

People pass on either side. Couples laughing. A man shouting into a phone. Friends chasing each other across puddles of neon light. Jem notes every face, every movement, every potential threat—just as she was trained. But tonight, her gaze lingers on a couple holding hands as they step into a building, their heads leaning into each other like magnets. For a moment, she's jealous. Not of the love—she's been "loved" before, though never in a way that left her feeling whole—but of the desire. The way their eyes seemed to say,I choose you.

No one's ever chosen Jem.

She shakes the thought away. Father warned her long ago: mundanes will destroy each other over the smallest disagreements. They're unpredictable. Dangerous. She is safest under his protection.

Still, the thought nags her like a stone in her shoe.

Jem slips by the people in the crowd, unnoticed. It's like moving through fog—thin, intangible. Most step aside without realizing why. Others just blink and look away. It's always been this way when she's on routes. If they notice her, they never show it.

Except for tonight.

She's almost to the edge of the field when someone stops her—abruptly, unmistakably.

A girl with long, blond hair.

She's justthere, standing in the middle of the walkway like a ghost that solidified from the mist. Her expression is calm, but her eyes... her eyes are locked on Jem with unsettling clarity.

Jem stops dead in her tracks, heart thudding once. Then again. Louder.

This can't be.

She glances around. No one else seems to notice. The world goes on—cars pass, music echoes from somewhere nearby, neon lights blink. But none of it reaches this strange moment suspended between them.

"What's wrong?" the girl asks, her voice light and curious. "Got somewhere to be?"

Jem stares. Her mind races through protocol. Rules. Responses. She's trained for hundreds of scenarios, but not this.Not being seen.

The girl tilts her head slightly, as if studying a puzzle. "You're not like them," she says, more to herself than to Jem. "Are you?"

Jem takes a step back. Her fingers tighten around the pack on her shoulders. She should run. She should disappear. But her legs don't move.

For the first time, someonereally sees her. And for some reason, that terrifies her more than Father ever could.

Part 2:

"You see anything?" Emma called over to Julian, who was standing on the opposite side of the rooftop. Her legs swung lazily over the edge, boots scuffing the concrete ledge with every kick.

Julian glanced toward her voice, then turned back to scan the city below. The streets shimmered under a haze of streetlights, stretching out like glowing veins through the sleeping city.

"No," he called back, sighing as he moved to join her. The night air ruffled his shirt as he settled beside her, arms crossed over his chest. "Still dead out here."

He didn't bother to hide his disappointment. Honestly, he'd take even the weakest of demons—something to chase, something to fight. The recent disappearances among the Downworlders had stirred up plenty of rumors, but no real leads. And yet L.A. remained strangely… quiet. Eerily so. Neither he nor Emma had killed a demon in months, and the weight of that inactivity was starting to gnaw at them both.

Julian glanced sideways at her. "Maybe we should schedule more training sessions back at the Institute. Just to stay sharp."

Emma pulled out her phone, thumb tapping at the screen. "It's nearly two in the morning," she said, stifling a yawn before turning her gaze to him. "You wanna head back?"

She tried to keep her voice light, but Julian caught the edge of exhaustion behind it. She was worn out—he could see it in her eyes, in the way her shoulders slouched slightly when she thought no one was looking. As much as he wanted to keep patrolling, he couldn't watch her burn herself out. Not again.

"Yeah, let's..." He paused mid-sentence, something catching his eye.

From their rooftop vantage point, the city stretched wide, quiet, and still—until something moved. A shadow. A tall, dark figure slipping quickly behind the red-bricked courthouse.

Julian straightened, pointing. "Did you see that?"

Emma jumped to her feet beside him, trying to follow his gaze. "See what?"

"Something just went behind the courthouse. Tall. Definitely not a stray cat."

Emma squinted into the distance, her voice skeptical. "Maybe a young couple going to do what young couples do."

Julian chuckled quietly, but his eyes never left the building. "Not unless one of them was eight feet tall."

Just then, a young girl stepped out from the shadows behind the courthouse. Emma leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "Is that what you saw?"

Julian shook his head slowly. "No. That's not it." He frowned. The girl was small, barely noticeable, someone who would disappear into a crowd without a trace. And yet…

"Look at how she's moving," he murmured.

Emma tilted her head, watching carefully. "Everyone's stepping aside for her… They don't even realize they're doing it. Is she glamoured?"

"Could be. Or…" Julian's voice trailed off as a familiar spark of adrenaline flickered in his chest. "This could be interesting."

Without another word, he took off, leaping across the adjacent rooftop and landing in a roll. He didn't have to look back—he trusted Emma to follow. She always did.

Even if the girl turned out to be nothing more than a confused mundane, it would still be the most interesting thing to happen all week.

And if she wasn't...

Well, then things were about to get very interesting.