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New York is as far from Mystic Falls as Vicki is sure the world goes. At least, for now. There's something about being a vampire from Mystic Falls that creates an orbital path in your gut that no one had the chance to explain to her before she skipped town, allowing everyone to think the worst things about her that she'd always known she was.
No, she's not looking for someone to prove her wrong. Good girls belong in fairy tales and well... she's clearly the villain now, anyhow.
"Must be nice being a princess," the venom in the word surprises Vicki only slightly, but seems to throw the Shadowhunter off her groove. On a roof a couple blocks away Raf mutters something about Valentine just loud enough for her to know that she hit a nerve with this girl, but in a cryptic enough fashion that later she'll corner him about knocking off that Harry Potter-crap.
Vicki shrugs at the room, "Sorry, I'm new."
A couple Shadowhunters grin.
The one with her seraph blade grazing Vicki's throat is remaining preternaturally still, even for a Shadowhunter, but her eyes are flashing and there's a little smile playing at the corner of her lips.
The blade lifts, "Me too."
Chagrin and humility sits good on a Shadowhunter.
Really good.
Good enough to eat.
*
"Must be nice to be a princess," Vicki whispers in awe the first time she's allowed to trace her fingers down the runes on Clary's bare back.
(She hasn't forgotten that she's the villain of this story.)
"Shut up," and like that, Clary is in her lap and her long hair is everywhere and it's almost like home, if home was a feeling or a moment or a cloud of red in your eyes just before you let go.