ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴʟʏ ꜰɪʀᴇ ~ ᴛᴍɪ

Chapter 12 - Subway Fight

The train ride to Central Park was devastatingly long. Although not as long as the two days Allison had to endure in Magnus' residence. Just sitting and lazing around was not that good. Running around 25/8, this sudden rest did not allude to her well. She was sure half of New York was in her compartment in the some-lettered train. She didn't bother knowing the train's name. People flooded and she was surprised they actually had space to stand. 

The entourage to the Seelie Court consisted of herself, Jace, Clary, and Simon. Isabelle would be meeting them near the entrance. Allison sagged against the railing, her cheek stung due to the coldness of the metal. Her brow rested on her hand which held the railing.

Simon and Clary were seated before her, a silent conversation beheld. Though Clary was distracted as her eyes strayed towards the opposite window at Jace, who was standing beside Allison herself. A single hand gripped the railing and he stood an arm's length away. His amber eyes darted from person to person, sometimes lingering on Clary. Not so subtly. 

Jace didn't even bother to talk with Allison for those two days. How could he? He chose not to step out of the room Magnus had given him. Allison did try to bribe him with Chinese food. He did not budge. She wanted to talk to him about Valentine. To start digging out some information from him. Give his dramatic ass some time, Magnus had said. Time was something they didn't have. Yet, she figured he needed it. To sort out the shit his father had put him through. Hence, she had to watch some mundane soap operas with Magnus. Not once in her life did she want to forget such blasphemy. 

Jace caught Allison staring at him and winked, to which she rolled her eyes. His obnoxiousness didn't fade at least. Though she felt Clary's gaze on her. That made Allison smirk a little.

But her mind drifted to the problem with Imogen. She had two days to grovel about it so now she has to find a way to resolve this situation. Her partially vague plan was to talk with the Seelie Queen. If she did get some information about Valentine's use of the soul sword, maybe she can take him on her own.

As absurd as the idea was, Allison had to do something. Her grandmother deserved some closure. She pondered about the first time she met Imogen, and how excited she was to meet her grandmother.

She was a five-year-old girl, looking through her mom's old albums. A few of her uncle Lucian's, him at her mother's wedding mostly. Though the one person who occupied the most was her father, Stephen Herondale. Allison knew during that time her father died. She never had the nerve to ask her mother how? She knew Amatis couldn't bring herself to talk.

That specific day, Allison heard a lot of rumble downstairs and Amatis' voice floated above along with someone else's voice.

Someone else.

No one ever came to their house.

As excited as a five-year-old could get, she hopped down the wooden stairs, into the living room.

Allison stood near the doorway, looking at an older woman.

The woman looked like a real-life skeleton, wearing a pristine black suit with an aura that made her intimidating. Her blonde, almost colorless hair was pulled back into a tight bun. The women's icy gaze noticed Allison and a sudden emotion flashed in her gray eyes, igniting something inside.

"Allison," Her mother who was sitting in another armchair scolded. "I told you to wait in your room."

But Allison didn't look at her mother, instead of at their guest.

She gave the woman a toothy smile, her incisors missing, and skipped towards her. "Hello! I'm Allison Graymark. I'm happy to meet you!"

The woman only stared, thin eyebrows raise as if she didn't expect such an introduction. As if the sight she was seeing was surreal.