mortal4

Also by Cassandra Clare
THE MORTAL I NSTRUMENTS
Cit y of Bones
Cit y of Ashes
Cit y of Gl ass
THE INFERNAL DEVICES
Clockwork Angel
MARGARET K. Mc EL DERRY B OOKS
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
Thi s book i s a work of fi cti on. Any r ef er ences t o hi st ori cal event s, r eal peopl e,
or r eal l ocal es ar e used fi ctiti ousl y. Ot her na mes, char act ers, pl aces, and i nci dent s
are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales
or persons, li vi ng or dead, i s entir el y coi nci dent al.
Copyright © 2011 by Cassandra Claire LLC
All ri ght s r eserved, i ncl udi ng t he ri ght of r epr oducti on i n whol e or i n part i n any f or m.
MARGARET K. MCEL DERRY B OOKS i s a tr ade mark of Si mon & Schust er, I nc.
The Si mon & Schust er Speakers Bur eau can bri ng aut hors t o your li ve event.
For mor e i nf or mati on or t o book an event, cont act t he Si mon & Schust er Speakers Bur eau
at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com.
Book design by Mike Rosamilia
The t ext f or t hi s book i s set i n Doll y.
Manuf act ur ed i n t he Unit ed St at es of A meri ca
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Clare, Cassandra.
Cit y of f all en angel s / Cassandr a Cl ar e. —1st ed.
p. c m. —( The mort al i nstr u ment s; bk. 4)
Su mmary: As myst eri ous mur ders t hr eat en t he ne w peace bet ween Shado whunt ers and
Downworlders, only Simon, the Daylighter vampire, can help bring both groups together.
ISBN 978-1-4424-0354-3 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4424-0356-7 (eBook)
[ 1. Super nat ur al —Fi cti on. 2. Va mpir es —Fi cti on. 3. De monol ogy —Fi cti on. 4. Magi c —Fi cti on.
5. Ne w York ( N. Y.) —Fi cti on.] I. Titl e.
PZ7.C5265Cj 2011
[Fic]—dc22
2010041132
For Josh
Sommes-nous les deux livres
d’un même ouvrage?
Contents
Part One: Ext er mi nati ng Angel s
Chapter 1: The Master
Chapt er 2: Falli ng
Chapter 3: Sevenfold
Chapt er 4: The Art of Ei ght Li mbs
Chapt er 5: Hell Call s Hell
Chapter 6: Wake The Dead
Chapter 7: Praetor Lupus
Chapt er 8: Wal k i n Dar kness
Chapt er 9: Fr o m Fir e Unt o Fir e
Part Two: For Ever y Lif e
Chapt er 10: Ri ver si de Dri ve
Chapt er 11: Our Ki nd
Chapter 12: Sanctuary
Chapt er 13: Girl Found Dead
Chapter 14: What Dreams May Come
Chapt er 15: Beati Belli cosi
Chapt er 16: Ne w Yor k Cit y Angel s
Chapt er 17: And Cai n Rose Up
Chapt er 18: Scar s of Fir e
Chapt er 19: Hell i s Sati sfi ed
Acknowledgments
Part One
Exterminating Angels
Ther e ar e si cknesses t hat wal k i n darkness; and t her e ar e ext er mi nati ng angel s, t hat fl y wr apt up i n t he curt ai ns of
i mmat eri alit y and an unco mmuni cati ng nat ur e; who m we cannot see, but we f eel t heir f orce, and si nk under t heir
s wor d .
—Jeremy Taylor, “A Funeral Sermon”
1
THE MASTER
“Just coffee, please.”
The waitr ess r ai sed her pencil ed eyebr o ws. “ You don’t want anyt hi ng t o eat ?” she asked. Her accent was t hi ck,
her attitude disappointed.
Simon Lewis couldn’t blame her; she’d probably been hoping for a better tip than the one she was going to get on
a si ngl e cup of coff ee. But it wasn’t hi s f ault va mpir es di dn’t eat. So meti mes, i n r est aur ant s, he or der ed f ood
any way, j ust t o pr eserve t he appear ance of nor mal cy, but l at e Tuesday ni ght, when Vesel ka was al most e mpt y of
ot her cust o mers, it di dn’t see m wort h t he bot her. “Just t he coff ee.”
Wit h a shr ug t he waitr ess t ook hi s l a mi nat ed menu and went t o put hi s or der i n. Si mon sat back agai nst t he har d
pl asti c di ner chair and l ooked ar ound. Vesel ka, a di ner on t he cor ner of Ni nt h Str eet and Second Avenue, was
one of his favorite places on the Lower East Side—an old neighborhood eatery papered with black-and-white
mur al s, wher e t hey l et you sit all day as l ong as you or der ed coff ee at half- hour i nt erval s. They al so served what
had once been his favorite vegetarian pierogi and borscht, but those days were behind him now.
It was mi d- Oct ober, and t hey’ d j ust put t heir Hall o ween decor ati ons up —a wobbl y si gn t hat sai d T RI CK- ORB
ORSCHT! a nd a f ake car dboar d cut out va mpir e ni ckna med Count Bli nt zul a. Once upon a ti me Si mon and Cl ary
had f ound t he cheesy holi day decor ati ons hil ari ous, but t he Count, wit h hi s f ake f angs and bl ack cape, di dn’t stri ke
Si mon as quit e so f unny any mor e.
Si mon gl anced t o war d t he wi ndo w. It was a bri sk ni ght, and t he wi nd was bl o wi ng l eaves acr oss Second Avenue
li ke handf ul s of t hr o wn conf etti. Ther e was a girl wal ki ng do wn t he str eet, a girl i n a ti ght belt ed tr ench coat, wit h
l ong bl ack hair t hat fl e w i n t he wi nd. Peopl e t ur ned t o wat ch her as she wal ked past. Si mon had l ooked at girl s li ke
t hat bef or e i n t he past, i dl y wonderi ng wher e t hey wer e goi ng, who t hey wer e meeti ng. Not guys li ke hi m, he kne w
that much.
Except t hi s one was. The bell on t he di ner’ s fr ont door r ang as t he door opened, and Isabell e Li ght wood ca me i n.
She s mil ed when she sa w Si mon, and ca me t o war d hi m, shr uggi ng off her coat and dr api ng it over t he back of t he
chair bef or e she sat do wn. Under t he coat she was weari ng one of what Cl ary call ed her “t ypi cal Isabell e outfit s”: a
ti ght short vel vet dr ess, fi shnet st ocki ngs, and boot s. Ther e was a knif e st uck i nt o t he t op of h er l eft boot t hat
Si mon kne w onl y he coul d see; still, everyone i n t he di ner was wat chi ng as she sat do wn, fli ngi ng her hair back.
Whatever she was wearing, Isabelle drew attention like a fireworks display.
Beautif ul Isabell e Li ght wood. When Si mon had met her, he’ d assu med she’ d have no ti me f or a guy li ke hi m. He’ d
t ur ned out t o be mostl y ri ght. Isabell e li ked boys her par ent s di sappr oved of, and i n her uni verse t hat meant
Do wnworl ders —f aeri es, wer e wol ves, and va mps. That t hey’ d been dati ng r egul arl y f or t he past mont h or t wo
a mazed hi m, even if t heir r el ati onshi p was li mit ed mostl y t o i nfr equent meeti ngs li ke t hi s one. And even if he
couldn’t help but wonder if he’d never been changed into a vampire, if his whole life hadn’t been altered in that
mo ment, woul d t hey be dati ng at all ?
She t ucked a l ock of hair behi nd her ear, her s mil e brilli ant. “ You l ook ni ce.”
Si mon cast a gl ance at hi mself i n t he r efl ecti ve surf ace of t he di ner wi ndo w. Isabell e’ s i nfl uence was cl ear i n t he
changes i n hi s appear ance si nce t hey’ d been dati ng. She’ d f orced hi m t o dit ch hi s hoodi es i n f avor of l eat her
j acket s, and hi s sneakers i n f avor of desi gner boot s. Whi ch, i nci dent all y, cost t hr ee hundr ed doll ars a pair. He was
still weari ng hi s char act eri sti c wor d shirt s —t hi s one sai d EXISTENTIALISTS DO IT POINTLESSLY— but his jeans
no l onger had hol es i n t he knees and t or n pocket s. He’ d al so gr o wn hi s hair l ong so t hat it f ell i n hi s eyes no w,
coveri ng hi s f or ehead, but t hat was mor e necessit y t han Isabell e.
Cl ary made f un of hi m about hi s ne w l ook; but, t hen, Cl ary f ound everyt hi ng about Si mon’ s l ove lif e bor derli ne
hil ari ous. She coul dn’t beli eve he was dati ng Isabell e i n any seri ous way. Of course, she al so coul dn’t beli eve he
was also dating Maia Robert s, a fri end of t heirs who happened t o be a wer e wolf, i n an equall y seri ous way. And
she r eall y coul dn’t beli eve t hat Si mon hadn’t yet t ol d eit her of t he m about t he ot her.
Si mon wasn’t r eall y sur e ho w it had happened. Mai a li ked t o co me t o hi s house and use hi s Xbox —t hey di dn’t
have one at t he abandoned poli ce st ati on wher e t he wer e wolf pack li ved —and it wasn’t until t he t hir d or f ourt h ti me
she’d come over that she’d leaned over and kissed him good-bye before she’d left. He’d been pleased, and then
had call ed up Cl ary t o ask her if he needed t o t ell Isabell e. “ Fi gur e out what’ s goi ng on wit h you and Isabell e,” she
sai d. “ Then t ell her.”
Thi s had t ur ned out t o be bad advi ce. It had been a mont h, and he still wasn’t sur e what was goi ng on wit h hi m and
Isabell e, so he hadn’t sai d anyt hi ng. And t he mor e ti me t hat passed, t he mor e a wk war d t he i dea of sayi ng
something grew. So far he’d made it work. Isabelle and Maia weren’t really friends, and rarely saw each other.
Unf ort unat el y f or hi m, t hat was about t o change. Cl ary’ s mot her and her l ongti me fri end, Luke, wer e getti ng
marri ed i n a f e w weeks, and bot h Isabell e and Mai a wer e i nvit ed t o t he weddi ng, a pr ospect Si mon f ound mor e
t errif yi ng t han t he i dea of bei ng chased t hr ough t he str eet s of Ne w York by an angry mob of va mpir e hunt ers.
“ So,” Isabell e sai d, snappi ng hi m out of hi s r everi e. “ Why her e and not Taki’ s? They’ d serve you bl ood t her e.”
Si mon wi nced at her vol u me. Isabell e was not hi ng if not unsubtl e. Fort unat el y, no one see med t o be li st eni ng i n,
not even t he waitr ess who r et ur ned, banged do wn a cup of coff ee i n fr ont of Si mon, eyed Izzy, and l eft wit hout
taking her order.
“I li ke it her e,” he sai d. “ Cl ary and I used t o co me her e back when she was t aki ng cl asses at Ti sch. They have
gr eat borscht and bli nt zes —t hey’r e li ke s weet cheese du mpli ngs —pl us it’ s open all ni ght.”
Isabell e, ho wever, was i gnori ng hi m. She was st ari ng past hi s shoul der. “ What i s t hat ?”
Si mon f oll o wed her gl ance. “ That’ s Count Bli nt zul a.”
“Count Blintzula ?”
Si mon shr ugged. “It’ s a Hall o ween decor ati on. Count Bli nt zul a i s f or ki ds. It’ s li ke Count Chocul a, or t he Count on
Sesame Stree.”t He gri nned at her bl ank l ook. “ You kno w. He t eaches ki ds ho w t o count.”
Isabell e was shaki ng her head. “ Ther e’ s a TV sho w wher e chil dr en ar e t aught ho w t o count b y vaampire ?”
“It woul d make sense if you’ d seen it,” Si mon mutt er ed.
“There is some mythological basis for such a construction,” Isabelle said, lapsing into lecturey Shadowhunter
mode. “ So me l egends do assert t hat va mpir es ar e obsessed wit h counti ng, and t hat if you spill gr ai ns of ri ce i n
fr ont of t he m, t hey’ll have t o st op what t hey’r e doi ng and count each one. Ther e’ s no tr ut h i n it, of course, any mor e
t han t hat busi ness about garli c. And va mpir es have no busi ness t eachi ng chil dr en. Va mpir es ar e t errif yi ng.”
“ Thank you,” Si mon sai d. “It’ s a j oke, Isabell e. He’ s t he Count. He li kes counti ng. You kno w. ‘ What di d t he Count
eat t oday, chil dr en? One chocol at e chi p cooki e, t wo chocol at e chi p cooki es, t hr ee chocol at e chi p cooki es . . .’”
Ther e was a r ush of col d air as t he door of t he r est aur ant opened, l etti ng i n anot her cust o mer. Isabell e shi ver ed
and r eached f or her bl ack sil k scarf. “It’ s not r eali sti c.”
“ What woul d you pr ef er ? ‘ What di d t he Count eat t oday, children? One helpless villager, two helpless villagers,
three hel pl ess vill agers . . .’”
“ Shh.” Isabell e fi ni shed knotti ng her scarf ar ound her t hr oat and l eaned f or war d, putti ng her hand on Si mon’ s wri st.
Her bi g dark eyes wer e ali ve suddenl y, t he way t hey onl y ever ca me ali ve when she was eit her hunti ng de mons or
t hi nki ng about hunti ng de mons. “ Look over t her e.”
Si mon f oll o wed her gaze. Ther e wer e t wo men st andi ng over by t he gl ass-fr ont ed case t hat hel d bakery it e ms:
t hi ckl y fr ost ed cakes, pl at es of r ugel ach, and cr ea m-fill ed Dani shes. Neit her of t he men l ooked as if t hey wer e
i nt er est ed i n f ood, t hough. Bot h wer e short and pai nf ull y gaunt, so much so t hat t heir cheekbones j utt ed fr o m t heir
colorless faces like knives. Both had thin gray hair and pale gray eyes, and wore belted slate-colored coats that
r eached t he fl oor.
“Now,” Isabelle said, “what do you suppose they are?”
Si mon squi nt ed at t he m. They bot h st ar ed back at hi m, t heir l ashl ess eyes li ke e mpt y hol es. “ They ki nd of l ook li ke
evil lawn gnomes.”
“They’re human subjugates,” Isabelle hissed. “They belong to a vampire.”
“‘ Bel ong’ as i n . . . ?”
She made an i mpati ent noi se. “ By t he Angel, you don’t kno w anyt hi ng about your ki nd, do you? Do you even r eall y
know how vampires are made?”
“ Well, when a mo mmy va mpir e and a daddy va mpir e l ove each ot her very much . . .”
Isabell e made a f ace at hi m. “ Fi ne, you kno w t hat va mpir edso n’t need t o have sex t o r epr oduce, but I bet you
don’t r eall y kno w ho w it works.”
“I do too,” said Simon. “I’m a vampire because I drank some of Raphael’s blood before I died. Drinking blood plus
death equals vampire.”
“Not exactly,” said Isabelle. “You’re a vampire because you drank some of Raphael’s blood, and then you were
bitt en by ot her va mpir es, and t hen you di ed. You need t o be bitt en at so me poi nt duri ng t he pr ocess.”
“ Why?”
“ Va mpir e sali va has . . . pr operti es. Tr ansf or mati ve pr operti es.”
“ Yech,” sai d Si mon.
“ Don’t ‘ yech’ me. You’r e t he one wit h t he magi cal spit. Va mpir es keep hu mans ar ound and f eed on t he m when
t hey’r e short on bl ood —li ke wal ki ng snack machi nes.” Izzy spoke wit h di st ast e. “ You’ d t hi nk t hey’ d be weak fr o m
bl ood l oss all t he ti me, but va mpir e sali va act uall y has heali ng pr operti es. It i ncr eases t heir r ed bl ood cell count,
makes t he m str onger and healt hi er, and makes t he m li ve l onger. That’ s why it’ s not agai nst t he La w f or a va mpir e
t o f eed on a hu man. It doesn’t r eall y hurt t he m. Of course every once i n a whil e t he va mpir e will deci de it want s
mor e t han a snack, it want s a subj ugat e —and t hen it will st art f eedi ng it s bitt en hu man s mall a mount s of va mpir e
bl ood, j ust t o keep it docil e, t o keep it connect ed t o it s mast er. Subj ugat es worshi p t heir mast ers, and l ove servi ng
t he m. All t hey want i s t o be near t he m. Li ke you wer e when you went back t o t he Du mont. You wer e dr a wn back t o
the vampire whose blood you had consumed.”
“ Raphael,” Si mon sai d, hi s voi ce bl eak. “I don’t f eel a bur ni ng ur ge t o be wit h hi m t hese days, l et me t ell you.”
“ No, it goes a way when you beco me a f ull va mpir e. It’ s onl yt he subj ugat es who worshi p t heir sir es and can’t
di sobey t he m. Don’t you see? When you went back t o t he Du mont, Raphael’ s cl an dr ai ned you, and you di ed, and
then you became a vampire. But if they hadn’t drained you, if they’d given you more vampire blood instead, you
would eventually have become a subjugate.”
“ That’ s all very i nt er esti ng,” Si mon sai d. “ But it doesn’t expl ai n why t hey’r e st ari ng at us.”
Isabelle glanced back at them. “They’re staring a tyou. Maybe their master died and they’re looking for another
va mpir e t o o wn t he m. You coul d have pet s.” She gri nned.
“ Or,” Si mon sai d, “ maybe t hey’r e her e f or t he hash br o wns.”
“ Hu man subj ugat es don’t eat f ood. They li ve on a mi x of va mpir e bl ood and ani mal bl ood. It keeps t he m i n a st at e
of suspended ani mati on. They’r e not i mmort al, but t hey age very sl o wl y.”
“ Sadl y,” Si mon sai d, eyei ng t he m, “t hey don’t see m t o keep t heir l ooks.”
Isabell e sat up str ai ght. “ And t hey’r e on t heir way over her e. I guess we’ll fi nd out what t hey want.”
The hu man subj ugat es moved as if t hey wer e on wheel s. They di dn’t appear t o be t aki ng st eps so much as gli di ng
f or war d soundl essl y. It t ook t he m onl y seconds t o cr oss t he r est aur ant; by t he ti me t hey near ed Si mon’ s t abl e,
Isabell e had whi pped t he shar p stil ett o-li ke dagger out of t he t op of her boot. It l ay acr oss t he t abl e, gl ea mi ng i n
t he di ner’ s fl uor escent li ght s. It was a dark, heavy sil ver, wit h cr osses bur ned i nt o bot h si des of t he hilt. Most
vampire-repelling weapons seemed to sport crosses, on the assumption, Simon thought, that most vampires
wer e Chri sti an. Who kne w t hat f oll o wi ng a mi norit y r eli gi on coul d be so advant ageous?
“ That’ s cl ose enough,” Isabell e sai d, as t he t wo subj ugat es paused besi de t he t abl e, her fi ngers i nches fr o m t he
dagger. “ St at e your busi ness, you t wo.”
“ Shado whunt er.” The cr eat ur e on t he l eft spoke i n a hi ssi ng whi sper. “ We di d not kno w of you i n t hi s sit uati on.”
Isabelle raised a delicate eyebrow. “And what situation would that be?”
The second subj ugat e poi nt ed a l ong gr ay fi nger at Si mon. The nail on t he end of it was yell o wed and shar p. “ We
have dealings with the Daylighter.”
“ No, you don’t,” Si mon sai d. “I have no i dea who you ar e. Never seen you bef or e.”
“I a m Mr. Wal ker,” sai d t he first cr eat ur e. “ Besi de me i s Mr. Archer. We serve t he most po werf ul va mpir e i n Ne w
York Cit y. The head of t he gr eat est Manhatt an cl an.”
“ Raphael Santi ago,” sai d Isabell e. “I n t hat case you must kno w t hat Si mon i sn’t a part of any cl an. He’ s a fr ee
agent.”
Mr. Wal ker s mil ed a t hi n s mil e. “ My mast er was hopi ng t hat was a sit uati on t hat coul d be alt er ed.”
Si mon met Isabell e’ s eyes acr oss t he t abl e. She shr ugged. “ Di dn’t Raphael t ell you he want ed you t o st ay away
fr o m t he cl an?”
“Maybe he’s changed his mind,” Simon suggested. “You know how he is. Moody. Fickle.”
“I woul dn’t kno w. I haven’t r eall y seen hi m si nce t hat ti me I t hr eat ened t o kill hi m wit h a candel abr a. He t ook it well,
t hough. Di dn’t fli nch.”
“ Fant asti c,” Si mon sai d. The t wo subj ugat es wer e st ari ng at hi m. Their eyes wer e a pal e whiti sh gr ay col or, li ke
dirt y sno w. “If Raphael want s me i n t he cl an, it’ s because he want s so met hi ng fr o m me. You mi ght as well t ell me
what it i s.”
“ We ar e not pri vy t o our mast er’ s pl ans,” sai d Mr. Archer i n a haught y t one.
“ No di ce, t hen,” sai d Si mon. “I won’t go.”
“If you do not wi sh t o co me wit h us, we ar e aut hori zed t o use f orce t o bri ng you.”
The dagger seemed to leap into Isabelle’s hand; or at least, she barely seemed to move, and yet she was holding
it. She t wirl ed it li ghtl y. “I woul dn’t do t hat if I wer e you.”
Mr. Archer bared his teeth at her. “Since when have the Angel’s children become the bodyguards for rogue
Downworlders? I would have thought you above this sort of business, Isabelle Lightwood.”
“I’ m not hi s bodyguar d,” sai d Isabell e. “I’ m hi s girlfri end. Whi ch gi ves me t he ri ght t o ki ck your ass if you bot her
hi m. That’ s ho w it works.”
Girlfri end? Si mon was st artl ed enough t o l ook at her i n sur pri se, but she was st ari ng do wn t he t wo subj ugat es, her
dark eyes fl ashi ng. On t he one hand he di dn’t t hi nk Isabell e had ever r ef err ed t o herself as hi s girlfri end bef or e. On
t he ot her hand it was sy mpt o mati c of ho w str ange hi s lif e had beco me t hat t hat was t he t hi ng t hat had st artl ed hi m
most t oni ght, r at her t han t he f act t hat he had j ust been su mmoned t o a meeti ng by t he most po werf ul va mpir e i n
Ne w York.
“ My mast er,” sai d Mr. Wal ker, i n what he pr obabl y t hought was a soot hi ng t one, “ has a pr opositi on t o put t o t he
Daylighter—”
“ Hi s na me i s Si mon. Si mon Le wi s.”
“ To put t o Mr. Le wi s. I can pr o mi se you t hat Mr. Le wi s will fi nd it most advant ageous if he i s willi ng t o acco mpany
us and hear my mast er out. I s wear on my mast er’ s honor t hat no har m will co me t o you, Dayli ght er, and t hat
shoul d you wi sh t o r ef use my mast er’ s off er, you will have t he fr ee choi ce t o do so.”
My mast er, my mast er. Mr. Wal ker spoke t he wor ds wit h a mi xt ur e of ador ati on and a we. Si mon shudder ed a littl e
i nwar dl y. Ho w horri bl e t o be so bound t o so meone el se, and t o have no r eal will of your o wn.
Isabell e was shaki ng her head; she mout hed “ no” at Si mon. She was pr obabl y ri ght, he t hought. Isabell e was an
excellent Shadowhunter. She’d been hunting demons and lawbreaking Downworlders—rogue vampires, blackmagic-
practicing warlocks, werewolves who’d run wild and eaten someone—since she was twelve years old, and
was pr obabl y bett er at what she di d t han any ot her Shado whunt er her age, wit h t he excepti on of her br ot her Jace.
And t her e had been Sebasti an, Si mon t hought, who had been bett er t han t he m bot h. But he was dead.
“ All ri ght,” he sai d. “I’ll go.”
Isabelle’s eyes rounded. “Simon!”
Bot h subj ugat es r ubbed t heir hands t oget her, li ke vill ai ns i n a co mi c book. The gest ur e it self wasn’t what was
cr eepy, r eall y; it was t hat t hey di d it exactl y at t he sa me ti me and i n t he sa me way, as if t hey wer e puppet s whose
strings were being yanked in unison.
“ Excell ent,” sai d Mr. Archer.
Isabell e banged t he knif e do wn on t he t abl e wit h a cl att er and l eaned f or war d, her shi ni ng dark hair br ushi ng t he
t abl et op. “ Si mon,” she sai d i n an ur gent whi sper. “ Don’t be st upi d. Ther e’ s no r eason f or you t o go wit h t he m. And
Raphael’s a jerk.”
“ Raphael’ s a mast er va mpir e,” sai d Si mon. “ Hi s bl ood made me a va mpir e. He’ s my —what ever t hey call it.”
“ Sir e, maker, begett er —t her e ar e a milli on na mes f or what he di d,” Isabell e sai d di str act edl y. “ And maybe hi s
bl ood made you a va mpir e. But it di dn’t make you a Daylighte.”r Her eyes met hi s acr oss t he t abl e. Jace made
you a Dayli ght er. But she woul d never say it out l oud; t her e wer e onl y a f e w of t he m who kne w t he tr ut h, t he whol e
st ory behi nd what Jace was, and what Si mon was because of it. “ You don’t have t o do what he says.”
“ Of course I don’t,” Si mon sai d, l o weri ng hi s voi ce. “ But if I r ef use t o go, do you t hi nk Raphael i s j ust goi ng t o dr op
it ? He won’t. They’ll keep co mi ng aft er me.” He snuck a gl ance si de ways at t he subj ugat es; t hey l ooked as if t hey
agr eed, t hough he mi ght have been i magi ni ng it. “ They’ll bug me every wher e. When I’ m out, at school, at Cl ary’ s
—”
“ And what ? Cl ary can’t handl e it ?” Isabell e t hr e w up her hands. “ Fi ne. At l east l et me go wit h you.”
“ Cert ai nl y not,” cut i n Mr. Archer. “ Thi s i s not a matt er f or Shado whunt ers. Thi s i s t he busi ness of t he Ni ght
Children.”
“I will not —”
“ The La w gi ves us t he ri ght t o conduct our busi ness i n pri vat e.” Mr. Wal ker spoke stiffl y. “ Wit h our o wn ki nd.”
Si mon l ooked at t he m. “ Gi ve us a mo ment, pl ease,” he sai d. “I want t o t al k t o Isabell e.”
Ther e was a mo ment of sil ence. Ar ound t he m t he lif e of t he di ner went on. The pl ace was getti ng it s l at e- ni ght r ush
as t he movi e t heat er do wn t he bl ock l et out, and waitr esses wer e hurryi ng by, carryi ng st ea mi ng pl at es of f ood t o
customers; couples laughed and chattered at nearby tables; cooks shouted orders to each other behind the
counter. No one looked at them or acknowledged that anything odd was going on. Simon was used to glamours
by no w, but he coul dn’t hel p t he f eeli ng so meti mes, when he was wit h Isabell e, t hat he was tr apped behi nd an
i nvi si bl e gl ass wall, cut off fr o m t he r est of hu manit y and t he dail y r ound of it s aff airs.
“ Very well,” sai d Mr. Wal ker, st eppi ng back. “ But my mast er does not li ke t o be kept waiti ng.”
They r etr eat ed t o war d t he door, appar entl y unaff ect ed by t he bl ast s of col d air whenever so meone went i n or out,
and st ood t her e li ke st at ues. Si mon t ur ned t o Isabell e. “It’ s all ri ght,” he sai d. “ They won’t hurt me. Thecyan ’t hurt
me. Raphael kno ws all about . . .” He gest ur ed unco mf ort abl y t o war d hi s f or ehead. “ Thi s.”
Isabell e r eached acr oss t he t abl e and pushed hi s hair back, her t ouch mor e cli ni cal t han gentl e. She was fr o wni ng.
Si mon had l ooked at t he Mark enough ti mes hi mself, i n t he mirr or, t o kno w well what it l ooked li ke. As if so meone
had t aken a t hi n pai nt br ush and dr a wn a si mpl e desi gn on hi s f or ehead, j ust above and bet ween hi s eyes. The
shape of it see med t o change so meti mes, li ke t he movi ng i mages f ound i n cl ouds, but it was al ways cl ear and
black and somehow dangerous-looking, like a warning sign scrawled in another language.
“It r eall y . . . works?” she whi sper ed.
“ Raphael t hi nks it works,” sai d Si mon. “ And I have no r eason t o t hi nk it doesn’t.” He caught her wri st and dr e w it
a way fr o m hi s f ace. “I’ll be all ri ght, Isabell e.”
She si ghed. “ Every bit of my tr ai ni ng says t hi s i sn’t a good i dea.”
Si mon squeezed her fi ngers. “ Co me on. You’r e curi ous about what Raphael want s, ar en’t you?”
Isabell e patt ed hi s hand and sat back. “ Tell me all about it when you get back. Call me first.”
“I will.” Si mon st ood, zi ppi ng up hi s j acket. “ And do me a f avor, will you? Two f avors, act uall y.”
She looked at him with guarded amusement. “What?”
“ Cl ary sai d she’ d be tr ai ni ng over at t he I nstit ut e t oni ght. If you r un i nt o her, don’t t ell her wher e I went. She’ll worry
f or no r eason.”
Isabell e r oll ed her eyes. “ Okay, fi ne. Second f avor ?”
Si mon l eaned over and ki ssed her on t he cheek. “ Try t he borscht bef or e you l eave. It’ s f ant asti c.”
Mr. Wal ker and Mr. Archer wer e not t he most t al kati ve of co mpani ons. They l ed Si mon sil entl y t hr ough t he str eet s
of t he Lo wer East Si de, keepi ng sever al st eps ahead of hi m wit h t heir odd gli di ng pace. It was getti ng l at e, but t he
cit y si de wal ks wer e f ull of peopl e —getti ng off a l at e shift, hurryi ng ho me fr o m di nner, heads do wn, coll ars t ur ned
up agai nst t he stiff col d wi nd. At St. Mark’ s Pl ace t her e wer e car d t abl es set up al ong t he cur b, selli ng everyt hi ng
fr o m cheap socks t o pencil sket ches of Ne w York t o s moky sandal wood i ncense. Leaves r attl ed acr oss t he
pavement like dried bones. The air smelled like car exhaust mixed with sandalwood, and underneath that, the
smell of human beings—skin and blood.
Si mon’ s st o mach ti ght ened. He tri ed t o keep enough bottl es of ani mal bl ood i n hi s r oo m—he had a s mall
r efri ger at or at t he back of hi s cl oset no w, wher e hi s mot her woul dn’t see it —t o keep hi mself fr o m ever getti ng
hungry. The bl ood was di sgusti ng. He’ d t hought he’ d get used t o it, even st art wanti ng it, but t hough it kill ed hi s
hunger pangs, there was not hi ng about it t hat he enj oyed t he way he’ d once enj oyed chocol at e or veget ari an
burritos or coffee ice cream. It remained blood.
But bei ng hungry was worse. Bei ng hungry meant t hat he coul d s mell t hi ngs he di dn’t want t o s mell —salt on ski n;
t he overri pe, s weet s mell of bl ood exudi ng fr o m t he por es of str angers. It made hi m f eel hungry and t wi st ed up and
utt erl y wr ong. Hunchi ng over, he j a mmed hi s fi st s i nt o t he pocket s of hi s j acket and tri ed t o br eat he t hr ough hi s
mouth.
They t ur ned ri ght ont o Thir d Avenue, and paused i n fr ont of a r est aur ant whose si gn sai d CLOISTER CAFÉ.
GARDEN OPEN ALL YEAR. Si mon bli nked up at t he si gn. “ What ar e we doi ng her e?”
“ Thi s i s t he meeti ng pl ace our mast er has chosen.” Mr. Wal ker’ s t one was bl and.
“ Huh.” Si mon was puzzl ed. “I woul d have t hought Raphael’ s st yl e was mor e, you kno w, arr angi ng meeti ngs on t op
of an unconsecr at ed cat hedr al, or do wn i n so me crypt f ull of bones. He never str uck me as t he tr endy r est aur ant
t ype.”
Bot h subj ugat es st ar ed at hi m. “Is t her e a pr obl e m, Dayli ght er ?” asked Mr. Archer fi nall y.
Si mon f elt obscur el y scol ded. “ No. No pr obl e m.”
The i nt eri or of t he r est aur ant was dark, wit h a mar bl e-t opped bar r unni ng al ong one wall. No servers or wait st aff
appr oached t he m as t hey made t heir way t hr ough t he r oo m t o a door i n t he back, and t hr ough t he door i nt o t he
garden.
Many Ne w York r est aur ant s had gar den t err aces; f e w wer e open t hi s l at e i nt o t he year. Thi s one was i n a
courtyard between several buildings. The walls had been painted with trompe l’oeil murals showing Italian gardens
f ull of fl o wers. The tr ees, t heir l eaves t ur ned gol d and r usset wit h t he f all, wer e str ung wit h chai ns of whit e li ght s,
and heat l a mps scatt er ed bet ween t he t abl es gave off a r eddi sh gl o w. A s mall f ount ai n pl ashed musi call y i n t he
cent er of t he yar d.
Onl y one t abl e was occupi ed, and not by Raphael. A sli m wo man i n a wi de- bri mmed hat sat at a t abl e cl ose t o t he
wall. As Si mon wat ched i n puzzl e ment, she r ai sed a hand and waved at hi m. He t ur ned and l ooked behi nd hi m;
there was, of course, no one there. Walker and Archer had started moving again; bemused, Simon followed them
as t hey cr ossed t he court yar d and st opped a f e w f eet fr o m wher e t he wo man sat.
Walker bowed deeply. “Master,” he said.
The wo man s mil ed. “ Wal ker,” she sai d. “ And Archer. Very good. Thank you f or bri ngi ng Si mon t o me.”
“ Wait a second.” Si mon l ooked fr o m t he wo man t o t he t wo subj ugat es and back agai n. “ You’r e not Raphael.”
“ Dear me, no.” The wo man r e moved her hat. An enor mous quantit y of sil very bl ond hair, brilli ant i n t he Chri st mas
lights, spilled down over her shoulders. Her face was smooth and white and oval, very beautiful, dominated by
enormous pale green eyes. She wore long black gloves, a black silk blouse and pencil skirt, and a black scarf tied
around her throat. It was impossible to tell her age—or at least what age she might have been when she’d been
Tur ned i nt o a va mpir e. “I a m Ca mill e Bel court. Enchant ed t o meet you.”
She held out a black-gloved hand.
“I was t ol d I was meeti ng Raphael Santi ago her e,” sai d Si mon, not r eachi ng t o t ake it. “ Do you work f or hi m?”
Ca mill e Bel court l aughed li ke a ri ppli ng f ount ai n. “ Most cert ai nl y not! Though once upon a ti me he worked f or me.”
And Simon remembered I. t hought t he head va mpir e was so meone el se, he had sai d t o Raphael once, i n I dri s, it
felt like forever ago.
Camille has not yet returned to us, Raphael had replied. I lead in her stead.
“ You’r e t he head va mpir e,” Si mon sai d. “ Of t he Manhatt an cl an.” He t ur ned back t o t he subj ugat es. “ You tri cked
me. You t ol d me I was meeti ng Raphael.”
“I sai d you wer e meeti ng our mast er,” sai d Mr. Wal ker. Hi s eyes wer e vast and e mpt y, so e mpt y t hat Si mon
wonder ed if t hey had even meant t o mi sl ead hi m, or if t hey wer e si mpl y pr ogr a mmed li ke r obot s t o say what ever
t heir mast er had t ol d t he m t o say, and wer e una war e of devi ati ons fr o m t he scri pt. “ And her e she i s.”
“I ndeed.” Ca mill e fl ashed a brilli ant s mil e t o war d her subj ugat es. “ Pl ease l eave us, Wal ker, Archer. I need t o
speak t o Si mon al one.” Ther e was so met hi ng about t he way she sai d it —bot h hi s na me, and t he wor d “ al one” —
t hat was li ke a secr et car ess.
The subj ugat es bo wed and wit hdr e w. As Mr. Archer t ur ned t o wal k a way, Si mon caught si ght of a mark on t he
si de of hi s t hr oat, a deep br ui se, so dark it l ooked li ke pai nt, wit h t wo darker spot s i nsi de it. The darker spot s
wer e punct ur es, ri nged wit h dry, r agged fl esh. Si mon f elt a qui et shudder pass t hr ough hi m.
“ Pl ease,” sai d Ca mill e, and patt ed t he seat besi de her. “ Sit. Woul d you li ke so me wi ne?”
Si mon sat, perchi ng unco mf ort abl y on t he edge of t he har d met al chair. “I don’t r eall y dri nk.”
“ Of course,” she sai d, all sy mpat hy. “ You’r e bar el y a fl edgli ng, ar en’t you? Don’t worry t oo much. Over ti me you will
tr ai n yourself t o be abl e t o consu me wi ne and ot her bever ages. So me of t he ol dest of our ki nd can consu me
hu man f ood wit h f e w ill eff ect s.”
Fe w ill eff ect s? Si mon di dn’t li ke t he sound of t hat. “Is t hi s goi ng t o t ake a l ong ti me?” he i nquir ed, gazi ng poi nt edl y
do wn at hi s cell phone, whi ch t ol d hi m t he ti me was aft er t en t hirt y. “I have t o get ho me.”
Ca mill e t ook a si p of her wi ne. “ You do? And why i s t hat ?”
Because my mo m i s waiti ng up f or me. Okay, t her e was no r eason t hi s wo man needed t o kno w t hat. “ You
i nt err upt ed my dat e,” he sai d. “I was j ust wonderi ng what was so i mport ant.”
“ You still li ve wit h your mot her, don’t you?” she sai d, setti ng her gl ass do wn. “ Rat her odd, i sn’t it, a po werf ul
va mpir e li ke yourself r ef usi ng t o l eave ho me, t o j oi n wit h a cl an?”
“ So you i nt err upt ed my dat e t o make f un of me f or still li vi ng wit h my par ent s. Coul dn’t you have done t hat on a
ni ght I di dn’t have a dat e? That’ s most ni ght s, i n case you’r e curi ous.”
“I’ m not mocki ng you, Si mon.” She r an her t ongue over her l o wer li p as if t asti ng t he wi ne she had j ust dr unk. “I
want t o kno w why you haven’t beco me part of Raphael’ s cl an.”
Whi ch i s t he sa me as your cl an, i sn’t it ?“I got t he str ong f eeli ng he di dn’t want me t o be part of it,” Si mon sai d. “ He
pr ett y much sai d he’ d l eave me al one if I l eft hi m al one. So I’ ve l eft hi m al one.”
“Have you.” Her green eyes glowed.
“I never want ed t o be a va mpir e,” Si mon sai d, half- wonderi ng why he was t elli ng t hese t hi ngs t o t hi s str ange
wo man. “I want ed a nor mal lif e. When I f ound out I was a Dayli ght er, I t hought I coul d have one. Or at l east so me
approximation of one. I can go t o school, I can li ve at ho me, I can see my mo m and si st er —”
“ As l ong as you don’t ever eat i n fr ont of t he m,” sai d Ca mill e. “ As l ong as you hi de your need f or bl ood. You have
never fed on someone purely human, have you? Just bagged blood. Stale. Animal.” She wrinkled her nose.
Si mon t hought of Jace, and pushed t he t hought hastil y a way. Jace was not pr eci sel y hu man. “ No, I haven’t.”
“ You will. And when you do, you will not f or get it.” She l eaned f or war d, and her pal e hair br ushed acr oss hi s hand.
“ You cannot hi de your tr ue self f or ever.”
“ What t eenager doesn’t li e t o t heir par ent s?” Si mon sai d. “ Any way, I don’t see why you car e. I n f act, I’ m still not
sur e why I’ m her e.”
Camille leaned forward. When she did, the neckline of her black silk blouse gaped open. If Simon had still been
hu man, he woul d have bl ushed. “ Will you l et me see it ?”
Si mon coul d act uall y f eel hi s eyes pop out. “ S eewhat ?”
She s mil ed. “ The Mark, sill y boy. The Mark of t he Wander er.”
Si mon opened hi s mout h, t hen cl osed it agai n. Ho w does she kno w? Very f e w peopl e kne w of t he Mark t hat Cl ary
had put on hi m i n I dri s. Raphael had i ndi cat ed it was a matt er f or deadl y secr ecy, and Si mon had tr eat ed it as
such.
But Camille’s eyes were very green and steady, and for some reason he wanted to do what she wanted him to do.
It was so met hi ng about t he way she l ooked at hi m, so met hi ng i n t he musi c of her voi ce. He r eached up and
pushed his hair aside, baring his forehead for her inspection.
Her eyes wi dened, her li ps parti ng. Li ghtl y she t ouched her fi ngers t o her t hr oat, as if checki ng t he nonexi st ent
pul se t her e. “ Oh,” she sai d. “ Ho w l ucky you ar e, Si mon. Ho w f ort unat e.”
“It’ s a curse,” he sai d. “ Not a bl essi ng. You kno w t hat, ri ght ?”
Her eyes sparked. “‘ And Cai n sai d unt o t he Lor d, My puni sh ment i s gr eat er t han I can bear.’ Is it mor e t han you
can bear, Simon?”
Si mon sat back, l etti ng hi s hair f all back i nt o pl ace. “I can bear it.”
“ But you don’t want t o.” She r an a gl oved fi nger ar ound t he ri m of her wi negl ass, her eyes still fi xed on hi m. “ What if
I coul d off er you a way t o t ur n what you r egar d as a curse i nt o an advant age?”
I’ d say you’r e fi nall y getti ng t o t he r eason you br ought me her e, whi ch i s a st art. “I’ m li st eni ng.”
“ You r ecogni zed my na me when I t ol d it t o you,” Ca mill e sai d. “ Raphael has menti oned me bef or e, has he not ?”
She had an accent, very f ai nt, t hat Si mon coul dn’t quit e pl ace.
“ He sai d you wer e t he head of t he cl an and he was j ust l eadi ng t he m whil e you wer e gone. St eppi ng i n f or you li ke
—like a vice president or something.”
“ Ah.” She bit gentl y on her l o wer li p. “ That i s, i n f act, not quit e tr ue. I woul d li ke t o t ell you t he tr ut h, Si mon. I woul d
li ke t o make you an off er. But first I must have your wor d on so met hi ng.”
“ And what’ s t hat ?”
“ That everyt hi ng t hat passes bet ween us t hi s ni ght, her e, r e mai ns a secr et. No one can kno w. Not your r edheaded
littl e fri end, Cl ary. Not eit her of your l ady fri ends. None of t he Li ght woods. No one.”
Si mon sat back. “ And what if I don’t want t o pr o mi se?”
“ Then you may l eave, if you li ke,” she sai d. “ But t hen you will never kno w what I wi shed t o t ell you. And t hat will be a
l oss you will r egr et.”
“I’ m curi ous,” Si mon sai d. “ But I’ m not sur e I’ m t hat curi ous.”
Her eyes hel d a littl e spark of sur pri se and a muse ment and per haps, Si mon t hought, even a littl e r espect. “ Not hi ng
I have t o say t o you concer ns t he m. It will not aff ect t heir saf et y, or t heir well- bei ng. The secr ecy i s f or my o wn
protection.”
Si mon l ooked at her suspi ci ousl y. Di d she mean it ? Va mpir es wer en’t li ke f aeri es, who coul dn’t li e. But he had t o
ad mit he was curi ous. “ All ri ght. I’ll keep your secr et, unl ess I t hi nk so met hi ng you say i s putti ng my fri ends i n
danger. Then all bet s ar e off.”
Her s mil e was fr ost y; he coul d t ell she di dn’t li ke bei ng di sbeli eved. “ Very well,” she sai d. “I suppose I have littl e
choi ce when I need your hel p so badl y.” She l eaned f or war d, one sli m hand t oyi ng wit h t he st e m of her wi negl ass.
“ Until quit e r ecentl y I l ed t he Manhatt an cl an, happil y. We had beautif ul quart ers i n an ol d pr e war buil di ng on t he
Upper West Si de, not t hat r at hol e of a hot el Santi ago keeps my peopl e i n no w. Santi ago —Raphael, as you call
hi m—was my second i n co mmand. My most l oyal co mpani on —or so I t hought. One ni ght I f ound out t hat he was
mur deri ng hu mans, dri vi ng t he m t o t hat ol d hot el i n Spani sh Harl e m and dri nki ng t heir bl ood f or hi s a muse ment.
Leavi ng t heir bones i n t he Du mpst er out si de. Taki ng st upi d ri sks, br eaki ng Covenant La w.” She t ook a si p of
wi ne. “ When I went t o confr ont hi m, I r eali zed he had t ol d t he r est of t he cl an t hat I was t he mur der er, t he
l a wbr eaker. It was all a set up. He meant t o kill me, so t hat he mi ght sei ze po wer. I fl ed, wit h onl y Wal ker and
Archer t o keep me saf e.”
“ So all t hi s ti me he’ s cl ai med he’ s j ust l eadi ng until you r et ur n?”
She made a f ace. “ Santi ago i s an acco mpli shed li ar. He wi shes me t o r et ur n, t hat’ s f or cert ai n —so he can mur der
me and t ake char ge of t he cl an i n ear nest.”
Si mon wasn’t sur e what she want ed t o hear. He wasn’t used t o adult wo men l ooki ng at hi m wit h bi g t ear-fill ed
eyes, or spilli ng out t heir lif e st ori es t o hi m.
“I’ m sorry,” he sai d fi nall y.
She shr ugged, a very expr essi ve shr ug t hat made hi m wonder if per haps her accent was Fr ench. “It i s i n t he past,”
she sai d. “I have been hi di ng out i n London all t hi s ti me, l ooki ng f or alli es, bi di ng my ti me. Then I hear d about you.”
She hel d up her hand. “I cannot t ell you ho w; I a m s wor n t o secr ecy. But t he mo ment I di d, I r eali zed t hat you wer e
what I had been waiti ng f or.”
“I was? I am?”
She l eaned f or war d and t ouched hi s hand. “ Raphael i s afr ai d of you, Si mon, as well he shoul d be. You ar e one of
hi s o wn, a va mpir e, but you cannot be har med or kill ed; he cannot lift a fi nger agai nst you wit hout bri ngi ng do wn
God’ s wr at h on hi s head.”
Ther e was a sil ence. Si mon coul d hear t he soft el ectri cal hu m of t he Chri st mas li ght s over head, t he wat er pl ashi ng
i n t he st one f ount ai n i n t he cent er of t he court yar d, t he buzz and hu m of t he cit y. When he spoke, hi s voi ce was
soft. “ You sai d it.”
“ What was t hat, Si mon?”
“ The wor d. The wr at h of —” The wor d bit and bur ned i n hi s mout h, j ust as it al ways di d.
“Yes .God.” She r etr act ed her hand, but her eyes wer e war m. “ Ther e ar e many secr et s of our ki nd, so many t hat I
can t ell you, sho w you. You will l ear n you ar e not da mned.”
“ Ma’ a m—”
“ Ca mill e. You must call me Ca mill e.”
“I still don’t underst and what you want fr o m me.”
“ Don’t you?” She shook her head, and her brilli ant hair fl e w ar ound her f ace. “I want you t o j oi n wit h me, Si mon.
Joi n wit h me agai nst Santi ago. We will wal k t oget her i nt o hi s r at-i nf est ed hot el; t he mo ment hi s f oll o wers see t hat
you ar e wit h me, t hey will l eave hi m and co me t o me. I beli eve t hey ar e l oyal t o me beneat h t heir f ear of hi m. Once
t hey see us t oget her, t hat f ear will be gone, and t hey will co me t o our si de. Man cannot cont end wit h t he di vi ne.”
“I don’t kno w,” Si mon sai d. “I n t he Bi bl e, Jacob wr estl ed an angel, and he won.”
Camille looked at him with her eyebrows arched.
Simon shrugged. “Hebrew school.”
“‘ And Jacob call ed t he na me of t he pl ace Peni el: f or I have seen God f ace t o f ace.’ You see, you ar e not t he onl y
one who kno ws your scri pt ur e.” Her narr o w l ook was gone, and she was s mili ng. “ You may not r eali ze it,
Dayli ght er, but as l ong as you bear t hat Mark, you ar e t he avengi ng ar m of heaven. No one can st and bef or e you.
Cert ai nl y not one va mpir e.”
“ Ar e you afr ai d of me?” Si mon asked.
He was al most i nst antl y sorry he had. Her gr een eyes darkened li ke t hundercl ouds. “ Me, afr ai d of you?” Then she
coll ect ed herself, her f ace s moot hi ng, her expr essi on li ght eni ng. “ Of course not,” she sai d. “ You ar e an i nt elli gent
man. I a m convi nced you will see t he wi sdo m of my pr oposal and j oi n wit h me.”
“ And what exactl y i s your pr oposal ? I mean, I underst and t he part wher e we f ace do wn Raphael, but aft er t hat ? I
don’t r eall y hat e Raphael, or want t o get ri d of hi m j ust t o get ri d of hi m. He l eaves me al one. That’ s all I ever
want ed.”
She f ol ded her hands t oget her i n fr ont of her. She wor e a sil ver ri ng wit h a bl ue st one i n it on her l eft mi ddl e fi nger,
over t he mat eri al of her gl ove. “ You t hi nk t hat i s what you want, Si mon. You t hi nk Raphael i s doi ng you a f avor i n
l eavi ng you al one, as you put it. I n r ealit y he i s exili ng you. Ri ght no w you t hi nk you do not need ot hers of your ki nd.
You ar e cont ent wit h t he fri ends you have —hu mans and Shado whunt ers. You ar e cont ent t o hi de bottl es of bl ood
i n your r oo m and li e t o your mot her about what you ar e.”
“ Ho w di d you —”
She went on, i gnori ng hi m. “ But what about i n t en years, when you ar e supposed t o be t went y-si x? I n t went y years?
Thirt y? Do you t hi nk no one will noti ce t hat as t hey age and change, you do not ?”
Si mon sai d not hi ng. He di dn’t want t o ad mit he hadn’t t hought ahead t hat f ar. That he di dn’t want t o t hi nk ahead
t hat f ar.
“ Raphael has t aught you t hat ot her va mpir es ar e poi son t o you. But it does not need t o be t hat way. Et er nit y i s a
l ong ti me t o spend al one, wit hout ot hers of your ki nd. Ot hers who underst and. You befri end Shado whunt ers, but
you can never be of t he m. You will al ways be ot her and out si de. Wit h us you coul d bel ong.” As she l eaned f or war d,
whit e li ght sparked off her ri ng, sti ngi ng Si mon’ s eyes. “ We have t housands of years of kno wl edge we coul d shar e
wit h you, Si mon. You coul d l ear n ho w t o keep your secr et; ho w t o eat and dri nk, ho w t o speak t he na me of God.
Raphael has cr uell y hi dden t hi s i nf or mati on fr o m you, even l ed you t o beli eve it doesn’t exi st. It does. I can hel p
you.”
“If I hel p you first,” Si mon sai d.
She s mil ed, and her t eet h wer e whit e and shar p. “ We will hel p each ot her.”
Simon leaned back. The iron chair was hard and uncomfortable, and he suddenly felt tired. Looking down at his
hands, he could see that the veins had darkened, spidering across the backs of his knuckles. He needed blood.
He needed t o t al k t o Cl ary. He needed ti me t o t hi nk.
“I’ ve shocked you,” she sai d. “I kno w. It i s a gr eat deal t o t ake i n. I woul d be happy t o gi ve you as much ti me as you
needed t o make up your mi nd about t hi s, and about me. But we don’t have much ti me, Si mon. Whil e I r e mai n i n
t hi s cit y, I a m i n danger fr o m Raphael and hi s cohort s.”
“Cohorts?” Despite everything, Simon grinned slightly.
Camille seemed baffled. “Yes?”
“ Well, it’ s j ust . . . ‘ Cohort s.’ It’ s li ke sayi ng ‘ evil doers’ or ‘ mi ni ons.’” She st ar ed at hi m bl ankl y. Si mon si ghed.
“Sorry. You probably haven’t seen as many bad movies as I have.”
Camille frowned faintly, a very fine line appearing between her brows. “I was told you would be slightly peculiar.
Per haps it i s j ust t hat I don’t kno w many va mpir es of your gener ati on. But t hat will be good f or me, I f eel, t o be
ar ound so meone so . . . young.”
“New blood,” said Simon.
At t hat she di d s mil e. “ Ar e you r eady, t hen? To accept my off er ? To begi n t o work t oget her ?”
Si mon l ooked up at t he sky. The stri ngs of whit e li ght s see med t o bl ot out t he st ars. “ Look,” he sai d, “I appr eci at e
your off er. I r eall y do.” Cr ap, he t hought. Ther e had t o be so me way t o say t hi s wit hout hi m soundi ng li ke he was
t ur ni ng do wn a dat e t o t he pr o m. I’ m r eall y, r eall y fl att er ed you asked, but . . . Camille, like Raphael, always spoke
stiffl y, f or mall y, as if she wer e i n a f airy t al e. Maybe he coul d try t hat. He sai d, “I r equir e so me ti me t o make my
deci si on. I’ m sur e you underst and.”
Very deli cat el y, she s mil ed, sho wi ng onl y t he ti ps of her f angs. “ Fi ve days,” she sai d. “ And no l onger.” She hel d out
her gl oved hand t o hi m. So met hi ng gl ea med i n her pal m. It was a s mall gl ass vi al, t he si ze t hat mi ght hol d a
perf u me sa mpl e, onl y it appear ed t o be f ull of br o wni sh po wder. “ Gr ave dirt,” she expl ai ned. “ S mash t hi s, and I will
kno w you ar e su mmoni ng me. If you do not su mmon me wit hi n fi ve days I will send Wal ker f or your ans wer.”
Si mon t ook t he vi al and sli pped it i nt o hi s pocket. “ And if t he ans wer i s no?”
“ Then I will be di sappoi nt ed. But we will part fri ends.” She pushed her wi negl ass a way. “ Good- bye, Si mon.”
Si mon st ood up. The chair made a met alli c squeaki ng sound as it dr agged over t he gr ound, t oo l oud. He f elt li ke
he shoul d say so met hi ng el se, but he had no i dea what. For t he mo ment, t hough, he see med t o be di s mi ssed. He
deci ded t hat he’ d r at her l ook li ke one of t hose weir d moder n va mpir es wit h bad manners t han ri sk getti ng
dr agged back i nt o t he conversati on. He l eft wit hout sayi ng anyt hi ng el se.
On his way back through the restaurant, he passed Walker and Archer, who were standing by the big wooden bar,
t heir shoul ders hunched under t heir l ong gr ay coat s. He f elt t he f orce of t heir gl ar es on hi m as he wal ked by and
wi ggl ed hi s fi ngers at t he m—a gest ur e so me wher e bet ween a fri endl y wave and a ki ss- off. Archer bar ed hi s t eet h
—fl at hu man t eet h —and st al ked past hi m t o war d t he gar den, Wal ker on hi s heel s. Si mon wat ched as t hey t ook
t heir pl aces i n chairs acr oss fr o m Ca mill e; she di dn’t l ook up as t hey seat ed t he msel ves, but t he whit e li ght s t hat
had ill u mi nat ed t he gar den went out suddenl y —not one by one but all at t he sa me ti me —l eavi ng Si mon st ari ng at
a di sori enti ng squar e of darkness, as if so meone had s wit ched off t he st ars. By t he ti me t he wait ers noti ced and
hurri ed out si de t o r ectif y t he pr obl e m, fl oodi ng t he gar den wit h pal e li ght once agai n, Ca mill e and her hu man
subjugates had vanished.
Si mon unl ocked t he fr ont door of hi s house —one of a l ong chai n of i denti cal bri ck-fr ont ed r o w houses t hat li ned
hi s Br ookl yn bl ock —and pushed it open sli ghtl y, li st eni ng har d.
He had t ol d hi s mot her he was goi ng out t o pr acti ce wit h Eri c and hi s ot her band mat es f or a gi g on Sat ur day.
There had been a time when she simply would have believed him, and that would have been that; Elaine Lewis
had al ways been a r el axed par ent, never i mposi ng a curf e w on eit her Si mon or hi s si st er or i nsi sti ng t hat t hey be
ho me earl y on school ni ght s. Si mon was used t o st ayi ng out until all hours wit h Cl ary, l etti ng hi mself i n wit h hi s key,
and coll apsi ng i nt o bed at t wo i n t he mor ni ng, behavi or t hat hadn’t excit ed much co mment fr o m hi s mot her.
Thi ngs wer e diff er ent no w. He had been i n I dri s, t he Shado whunt ers’ ho me country, f or al most t wo weeks. He had
vanished from home, with no chance to offer an excuse or explanation. The warlock Magnus Bane had stepped in
and perf or med a me mory spell on Si mon’ s mot her so t hat she no w had no r ecoll ecti on t hat he had been mi ssi ng
at all. Or at l east, no consci ous r ecoll ecti on. Her behavi or had changed, t hough. She was suspi ci ous no w,
hoveri ng, al ways wat chi ng hi m, i nsi sti ng he be ho me at cert ai n ti mes. The l ast ti me he had co me ho me fr o m a
dat e wit h Mai a, he had f ound El ai ne i n t he f oyer, sitti ng i n a chair f aci ng t he door, her ar ms cr ossed over her chest
and a look of barely tempered rage on her face.
That ni ght, he’ d been abl e t o hear her br eat hi ng bef or e he’ d seen her. No w he coul d hear onl y t he f ai nt sound of
t he t el evi si on co mi ng fr o m t he li vi ng r oo m. She must have wait ed up f or hi m, pr obabl y wat chi ng a mar at hon of one
of t hose hospit al dr a mas she l oved. Si mon s wung t he door cl osed behi nd hi m and l eaned agai nst it, tryi ng t o
gat her hi s ener gy t o li e.
It was har d enough not eati ng ar ound hi s f a mil y. Thankf ull y hi s mot her went t o work earl y and got back l at e, and
Rebecca, who went to college in New Jersey and only came home occasionally to do her laundry, wasn’t around
oft en enough t o noti ce anyt hi ng odd. Hi s mo m was usuall y gone i n t he mor ni ng by t he ti me he got up, t he
br eakf ast and l unch she’ d l ovi ngl y pr epar ed f or hi m l eft out on t he kit chen count er. He’ d du mp it i nt o a tr ash bi n on
hi s way t o school. Di nner was t ougher. On t he ni ght s she was t her e, he had t o push hi s f ood ar ound hi s pl at e,
pr et end he wasn’t hungry or t hat he want ed t o t ake hi s f ood i nt o hi s bedr oo m so he coul d eat whil e st udyi ng. Once
or t wi ce he’ d f orced t he f ood do wn, j ust t o make her happy, and spent hours i n t he bat hr oo m aft er war d, s weati ng
and r et chi ng until it was out of hi s syst e m.
He hat ed havi ng t o li e t o her. He’ d al ways f elt a littl e sorry f or Cl ary, wit h her fr aught r el ati onshi p wit h Jocel yn, t he
most over pr ot ecti ve par ent he’ d ever kno wn. No w t he shoe was on t he ot her f oot. Si nce Val enti ne’ s deat h,
Jocelyn’s grip on Clary had relaxed to the point where she was practically a normal parent. Meanwhile, whenever
Si mon was ho me, he coul d f eel t he wei ght of hi s mot her’ s gaze on hi m, li ke an accusati on wher ever he went.
Squaring his shoulders, he dropped his messenger bag by the door and headed into the living room to face the
musi c. The TV was on, t he ne ws bl ari ng. The l ocal announcer was r eporti ng on a hu man i nt er est st ory —a baby
f ound abandoned i n an all ey behi nd a hospit al do wnt o wn. Si mon was sur pri sed; hi s mo m hat ed t he ne ws. She
found it depressing. He glanced toward the couch, and his surprise faded. His mother was asleep, her glasses on
t he t abl e besi de her, a half- e mpt y gl ass on t he fl oor. Si mon coul d s mell it fr o m her e —pr obabl y whi skey. He f elt a
pang. His mom hardly ever drank.
Si mon went i nt o hi s mot her’ s bedr oo m and r et ur ned wit h a cr ochet ed bl anket. Hi s mo m was still asl eep, her
br eat hi ng sl o w and even. El ai ne Le wi s was a ti ny, bir dli ke wo man, wit h a hal o of bl ack curli ng hair, str eaked wit h
gr ay t hat she r ef used t o dye. She worked duri ng t he day f or an envir on ment al nonpr ofit, and most of her cl ot hes
had ani mal motif s on t he m. Ri ght no w she was weari ng a dr ess ti e- dye pri nt ed wit h dol phi ns and waves, and a pi n
that had once been a live fish, dipped in resin. Its lacquered eye seemed to glare at Simon accusingly as he bent
to tuck the blanket around her shoulders.
She moved, fitf ull y, t ur ni ng her head a way fr o m hi m. “ Si mon,” she whi sper ed. “ Si mon, wher e ar e you?”
Stri cken, Si mon l et go of t he bl anket and st ood up. Maybe he shoul d wake her up, l et her kno w he was okay. But
t hen t her e woul d be questi ons he di dn’t want t o ans wer and t hat hurt l ook on her f ace he coul dn’t st and. He t ur ned
and went i nt o hi s bedr oo m.
He had thrown himself down onto the covers and grabbed for the phone on his bedside table, about to dial Clary’s
nu mber, bef or e he even t hought about it. He paused f or a mo ment, li st eni ng t o t he di al t one. He coul dn’t t ell her
about Ca mill e; he’ d pr o mi sed t o keep t he va mpir e’ s off er a secr et, and whil e Si mon di dn’t f eel he o wed Ca mill e
much, if t her e was one t hi ng he had l ear ned fr o m t he past f e w mont hs, it was t hat r enegi ng on pr o mi ses made t o
super nat ur al cr eat ur es was a bad i dea. Still, he want ed t o hear Cl ary’ s voi ce, t he way he al ways di d when he’ d
had a t ough day. Well, t her e was al ways co mpl ai ni ng t o her about hi s l ove lif e; t hat see med t o a muse her no end.
Rolling over in bed, he pulled the pillow over his head and dialed Clary’s number.
2F
ALLING
“ So, di d you have f un wit h I sabell e t oni ght ?” Cl ar y, her phone jammed against her ear, maneuvered herself
car ef ull y fr o m one l ong bea m t o anot her. The bea ms wer e set t went y f eet up i n t he r aft ers of t he I nstit ut e’ s atti c,
wher e t he tr ai ni ng r oo m was l ocat ed. Wal ki ng t he bea ms was meant t o t each you ho w t o bal ance. Cl ary hat ed
t he m. Her f ear of hei ght s made t he whol e busi ness si ckeni ng, despit e t he fl exi bl e cor d ti ed ar ound her wai st t hat
was supposed t o keep her fr o m hitti ng t he fl oor if she f ell. “ Have you t ol d her about Mai a yet ?”
Si mon made a f ai nt, nonco mmitt al noi se t hat Cl ary kne w meant “ no.” She coul d hear musi c i n t he backgr ound;
she coul d pi ct ur e hi m l yi ng on hi s bed, t he st er eo pl ayi ng softl y as he t al ked t o her. He sounded tir ed, t hat sort of
bone-deep tired she kne w meant t hat hi s li ght t one di dn’t r efl ect hi s mood. She’ d asked hi m if he was all ri ght
several times at the beginning of the conversation, but he’d brushed away her concern.
She snort ed. “ You’r e pl ayi ng wit h fir e, Si mon. I hope you kno w t hat.”
“I don’t kno w. Do you r eall y t hi nk it’ s such a bi g deal ?” Si mon sounded pl ai nti ve. “I haven’t had a si ngl e
conversation with Isabelle—or Maia—about dating exclusively.”
“ Let me t ell you so met hi ng about girl s.” Cl ary sat do wn on a bea m, l etti ng her l egs dangl e out i nt o t he air. The
atti c’ s half- moon wi ndo ws wer e open, and cool ni ght air spill ed i n, chilli ng her s weat y ski n. She had al ways
t hought t he Shado whunt ers tr ai ned i n t heir t ough, l eat herli ke gear, but as it t ur ned out, t hat was f or l at er tr ai ni ng,
whi ch i nvol ved weapons. For t he sort of tr ai ni ng she was doi ng —exerci ses meant t o i ncr ease her fl exi bilit y,
speed, and sense of balance—she wore a light tank top and drawstring pants that reminded her of medical
scr ubs. “ Even if you haven’t had t he excl usi vit y conversati on, t hey’r e still goi ng t o be mad if t hey fi nd out you’r e
dati ng so meone t hey kno w and you haven’t menti oned it. It’ s a dati ng r ul e.”
“ Well, ho w a m I supposed t o kno w t hat r ul e?”
“ Everyone kno ws t hat r ul e.”
“I t hought you wer e supposed t o be on my si de.”
“I a m on your si de!”
“So why aren’t you being more sympathetic?”
Clary switched the phone to her other ear and peered down into the shadows below her. Where was Jace? He’d
gone t o get anot her r ope and sai d he’ d be back i n fi ve mi nut es. Of course, if he caught her on t he phone up her e,
he’ d pr obabl y kill her. He was r ar el y i n char ge of her tr ai ni ng —t hat was usuall y Maryse, Kadir, or vari ous ot her
me mbers of t he Ne w York Concl ave pi nch- hitti ng until a r epl ace ment f or t he I nstit ut e’ s pr evi ous t ut or, Hodge, coul d
be f ound —but when he was, he t ook it very seri ousl y. “ Because,” she sai d, “your pr obl e ms ar e not r eal pr obl e ms.
You’r e dati ng t wo beautif ul girl s at once. Thi nk about it. That’ s li ke . . . r ock-st ar pr obl e ms.”
“ Havi ng r ock-st ar pr obl e ms may be t he cl osest I ever get t o bei ng an act ual r ock st ar.”
“ No one t ol d you t o call your band Sal aci ous Mol d, my fri end.”
“ We’r e Mill enni u m Li nt no w,” Si mon pr ot est ed.
“ Look, j ust fi gur e t hi s out bef or e t he weddi ng. If t hey bot h t hi nk t hey’r e goi ng t o it wit h you and t hey fi nd out at t he
weddi ng t hat you’r e dati ng t he m bot h, t hey’ll kill you.” She st ood up. “ And t hen my mo m’ s weddi ng will be r ui ned,
and she’ll kill you. So you’ll be dead t wi ce. Well, t hr ee ti mes, t echni call y . . .”
“I never t ol d eit her of t he m I was goi ng t o t he weddi ng wit h t he m!” Si mon sounded pani cked.
“ Yes, but t hey’r e goi ng t o expect you t o. That’ s why girl s have boyfri ends. So you have so meone t o t ake you t o
bori ng f uncti ons.” Cl ary moved out t o t he edge of t he bea m, l ooki ng do wn i nt o t he wit chli ght-ill u mi nat ed shado ws
bel o w. Ther e was an ol d tr ai ni ng circl e chal ked on t he fl oor; it l ooked li ke a bull’ s- eye. “ Any way, I have t o j u mp off
t hi s bea m no w and possi bl y hurtl e t o my horri bl e deat h. I’ll t al k t o you t o morr o w.”
“I’ ve got band pr acti ce at t wo, r e me mber ? I’ll see you t her e.”
“ See you.” She hung up and st uck t he phone i nt o her br a; t he li ght tr ai ni ng cl ot hes di dn’t have any pocket s, so
what was a girl t o do?
“ So, ar e you pl anni ng t o st ay up t her e all ni ght ?” Jace stepped into the center of the bull’s-eye and looked up at
her. He was weari ng fi ghti ng gear, not tr ai ni ng cl ot hes li ke Cl ary was, and hi s f air hair st ood out st artli ngl y agai nst
t he bl ack. It had darkened sli ghtl y si nce t he end of su mmer and was mor e a dark gol d t han li ght, whi ch, Cl ary
t hought, suit ed hi m even bett er. It made her absur dl y happy t hat she had no w kno wn hi m l ong enough t o noti ce
small changes in his appearance.
“I t hought you wer e co mi ng up her e,” she call ed do wn. “ Change of pl ans?”
“ Long st ory.” He gri nned up at her. “ So? You want t o pr acti ce fli ps?”
Cl ary si ghed. Pr acti ci ng fli ps i nvol ved fli ngi ng herself off t he bea m i nt o e mpt y space, and usi ng t he fl exi bl e cor d t o
hol d her whil e she pushed off t he wall s and fli pped herself over and under, t eachi ng herself t o whirl, ki ck, and duck
without worrying about hard floors and bruises. She’d seen Jace do it, and he looked like a falling angel while he
di d, fl yi ng t hr ough t he air, whirli ng and spi nni ng wit h beautif ul, ball eti c gr ace. She, on t he ot her hand, curl ed up li ke
a pot at o bug as soon as t he fl oor appr oached, and t he f act t hat she i nt ell ect uall y kne w she wasn’t goi ng t o hit it
di dn’t see m t o make any diff er ence.
She was st arti ng t o wonder if it di dn’t matt er t hat she’ d been bor n a Shado whunt er; maybe it was t oo l at e f or her
t o be made i nt o one, or at l east a f ull y f uncti onal one. Or maybe t he gift t hat made her and Jace what t hey wer e
had been somehow distributed unequally between them, so he had gotten all the physical grace, and she had
gott en —well, not a l ot of it.
“ Co me on, Cl ary,” Jace sai d. “Ju mp.” She cl osed her eyes and j u mped. For a mo ment she f elt herself hang
suspended, fr ee of everyt hi ng. Then gr avit y t ook over, and she pl unged t o war d t he fl oor. I nsti ncti vel y she pull ed her
arms and legs in, keeping her eyes squeezed shut. The cord pulled taut and she rebounded, flying back up before
falling again. As her velocity slowed, she opened her eyes and found herself dangling at the end of the cord, about
fi ve f eet above Jace. He was gri nni ng.
“ Ni ce,” he sai d. “ As gr acef ul as a f alli ng sno wfl ake.”
“Was I screaming?” she asked, genuinely curious. “You know, on the way down.”
He nodded. “Thankfully no one’s home, or they would have assumed I was murdering you.”
“ Ha. You can’t even r each me.” She ki cked out a l eg and spun l azil y i n mi dair.
Jace’ s eyes gli nt ed. “ Want t o bet ?”
Cl ary kne w t hat expr essi on. “ No,” she sai d qui ckl y. “ What ever you’r e goi ng t o do —”
But he’ d alr eady done it. When Jace moved f ast, hi s i ndi vi dual move ment s wer e al most i nvi si bl e. She sa w hi s
hand go t o hi s belt, and t hen so met hi ng fl ashed i n t he air. She hear d t he sound of parti ng f abri c as t he cor d above
her head was shear ed t hr ough. Rel eased, she f ell fr eel y, t oo sur pri sed t o scr ea m—dir ectl y i nt o Jace’ s ar ms. The
f orce knocked hi m back war d, and t hey spr a wl ed t oget her ont o one of t he padded fl oor mat s, Cl ary on t op of hi m.
He grinned up at her.
“ No w,” he sai d, “t hat was much bett er. You di dn’t scr ea m at all.”
“I di dn’t get t he chance.” She was br eat hl ess, and not j ust fr o m t he i mpact of t he f all. Bei ng spr a wl ed on t op of
Jace, f eeli ng hi s body agai nst hers, made her hands shake and her heart beat f ast er. She had t hought maybe her
physi cal r eacti on t o hi m—t heir r eacti ons t o each ot her —woul d f ade wit h f a mili arit y, but t hat hadn’t happened. If
anyt hi ng, it had gott en worse t he mor e ti me she’ d spent wit h hi m—or bett er, she supposed, dependi ng on ho w
you t hought about it.
He was l ooki ng up at her wit h dark gol den eyes; she wonder ed if t heir col or had i nt ensifi ed si nce hi s encount er
wit h Razi el, t he Angel, by t he shor es of Lake Lyn i n I dri s. She coul dn’t ask anyone: Though everyone kne w t hat
Valentine had summoned the Angel, and that the Angel had healed Jace from injuries Valentine had inflicted on
hi m, no one but Cl ary and Jace kne w t hat Val enti ne had done mor e t han j ust i nj ur e hi s adopt ed son. He had
stabbed Jace through the heart as part of the summoning ceremony—stabbed him, and held him while he died. At
Cl ary’ s wi sh Razi el had br ought Jace back fr o m deat h. The enor mit y of it still shocked Cl ary, and, she suspect ed,
Jace as well. They had agr eed never t o t ell anyone t hat Jace had act uall y di ed, even f or a bri ef ti me. It was t heir
secret.
He r eached up and pushed her hair back fr o m her f ace. “I’ m j oki ng,” he sai d. “ You’r e not so bad. You’ll get t her e.
You shoul d have seen Al ec do fli ps at first. I t hi nk he ki cked hi mself i n t he head once.”
“ Sur e,” sai d Cl ary. “ But he was pr obabl y el even.” She eyed hi m. “I suppose you’ ve al ways been a mazi ng at t hi s
st uff.”
“I was bor n a mazi ng.” He str oked her cheek wit h t he ti ps of hi s fi ngers, li ghtl y but enough t o make her shi ver. She
sai d not hi ng; he was j oki ng, but i n a sense it was tr ue. Jace had been bor n t o be what he was. “ Ho w l ong can you
st ay t oni ght ?”
She s mil ed a littl e. “ Ar e we done wit h tr ai ni ng?”
“I’ d li ke t o t hi nk t hat we’r e done wit h t he part of t he eveni ng wher e it’ s absol ut el y r equir ed. Alt hough t her e ar e a f e w
t hi ngs I’ d li ke t o pr acti ce. . . .” He r eached up t o pull her do wn, but at t hat mo ment t he door opened, and Isabell e
came stalking in, the high heels of her boots clicking on the polished hardwood floor.
Cat chi ng si ght of Jace and Cl ary spr a wl ed on t he fl oor, she r ai sed her eyebr o ws. “ Canoodli ng, I see. I t hought you
were supposed to be training.”
“ No one sai d you had t o wal k i n wit hout knocki ng, Iz.” Jace di dn’t move, j ust t ur ned hi s head t o t he si de t o l ook at
Isabell e wit h a mi xt ur e of annoyance and aff ecti on. Cl ary, t hough, scr a mbl ed t o her f eet, str ai ght eni ng her
crumpled clothes.
“It’ s t he tr ai ni ng r oo m. It’ s publi c space.” Isabell e was pulli ng off one of her gl oves, whi ch wer e bri ght r ed vel vet. “I
j ust got t hese at Tr ash and Vaudevill e. On sal e. Don’t you l ove t he m? Don’t you wi sh you had a pair ?” She wi ggl ed
her fi ngers i n t heir dir ecti on.
“I don’t kno w,” sai d Jace. “I t hi nk t hey’ d cl ash wit h my gear.”
Isabelle made a face at him. “Did you hear about the dead Shadowhunter they found in Brooklyn? The body was
all mangl ed up, so t hey don’t kno w who it i s yet. I assu me t hat’ s wher e Mo m went.”
“ Yeah,” sai d Jace, sitti ng up. “ Cl ave meeti ng. I r an i nt o her on t he way out.”
“ You di dn’t t ell me t hat,” sai d Cl ary. “Is t hat why you t ook so l ong getti ng r ope?”
He nodded. “ Sorry. I di dn’t want t o fr eak you out.”
“ He means,” sai d Isabell e, “ he di dn’t want t o spoil t he r o manti c mood.” She bit her li p. “I j ust hope it wasn’t anyone
we kno w.”
“I don’t t hi nk it coul d have been. The body was du mped i n an abandoned factory—had been there for several
days. If it had been so meone we kne w, we woul d have noti ced t hey wer e mi ssi ng.” Jace pushed hi s hair back
behi nd hi s ears. He was l ooki ng at Isabell e a littl e i mpati entl y, Cl ary t hought, as if he wer e annoyed she’ d br ought
t hi s up. She wi shed he’ d t ol d her earli er, even if it woul d have spoil ed t he mood. Much of what he di d, what t hey all
di d, Cl ary kne w, br ought t he m i nt o fr equent cont act wit h t he r ealit y of deat h. All t he Li ght woods wer e, i n t heir o wn
ways, still gri evi ng t he l oss of t he youngest son, Max, who had di ed si mpl y f or bei ng i n t he wr ong pl ace at t he
wr ong ti me. It was str ange. Jace had accept ed her deci si on t o l eave hi gh school and t ake up tr ai ni ng wit hout a
mur mur, but he shi ed a way fr o m di scussi ng t he dangers of a Shado whunti ng lif e wit h her.
“I’ m goi ng t o get dr essed,” she announced, and headed f or t he door t hat l ed t o t he s mall changi ng r oo m att ached
t o t he tr ai ni ng ar ea. It was very pl ai n: pal e wood wall s, a mirr or, a sho wer, and hooks f or cl ot hes. To wel s wer e
st acked neatl y on a wooden bench by t he door. Cl ary sho wer ed qui ckl y and put on her str eet cl ot hes —ti ght s,
boot s, j ean skirt, and a ne w pi nk s weat er. Looki ng at herself i n t he mirr or, she sa w t hat t her e was a hol e i n her
ti ght s, and her da mp and curli ng r ed hair was an unti dy t angl e. She woul d never l ook perf ectl y put t oget her li ke
Isabelle always did, but Jace didn’t seem to mind.
By t he ti me she ca me back t o t he tr ai ni ng r oo m, Isabell e and Jace had l eft t he t opi c of dead Shado whunt ers
behind and had moved on to something Jace apparently found even more horrifying—Isabelle’s date with Simon.
“I can’t beli eve he t ook you t o an act ual r est aur ant.” Jace was on hi s f eet no w, putti ng a way t he fl oor mat s and
training gear while Isabelle leaned agai nst t he wall and pl ayed wit h her ne w gl oves. “I assu med hi s i dea of a dat e
woul d be maki ng you wat ch hi m pl ay Worl d of Warcr aft wit h hi s ner d fri ends.”
“I,” Cl ary poi nt ed out, “ a m one of hi s ner d fri ends, t hank you.”
Jace grinned at her.
“It wasn’t r eall y a r est aur ant. Mor e of a di ner. Wit h pi nk soup t hat he want ed me t o try,” Isabell e sai d t houghtf ull y.
“ He was very s weet.”
Cl ary f elt i nst antl y guilt y f or not t elli ng her —or Jace —about Mai a. “ He sai d you had f un.”
Isabelle’s gaze flickered over to her. There was a peculiar quality to Isabelle’s expression, as if she were hiding
so met hi ng, but it was gone bef or e Cl ary coul d be sur e it had been t her e at all. “ You t al ked t o hi m?”
“ Yeah, he call ed me a f e w mi nut es ago. Just t o check i n.” Cl ary shr ugged.
“I see,” Isabell e sai d, her voi ce suddenl y bri sk and cool. “ Well, as I sai d, he’ s very s weet. But maybe a bit t oo
s weet. That can be bori ng.” She st uff ed her gl oves i nt o her pocket s. “ Any way, it i sn’t a per manent t hi ng. It’ s j ust
playing around for now.”
Cl ary’ s guilt f aded. “ Have you guys ever t al ked about, you kno w, dati ng excl usi vel y?”
Isabell e l ooked horrifi ed. “ Of course not.” She ya wned t hen, str et chi ng her ar ms catli ke over her head. “ Okay, off t o
bed. See you later, lovebirds.”
She departed, leaving a hazy cloud of jasmine perfume in her wake.
Jace l ooked over at Cl ary. He had st art ed unbuckli ng hi s gear, whi ch cl asped at t he wri st s and back, f or mi ng a
protective shell over his clothes. “I suppose you have to go home?”
She nodded r el uct antl y. Getti ng her mot her t o agr ee t o l et her pursue Shado whunt er tr ai ni ng had been a l ong,
unpl easant ar gu ment i n t he first pl ace. Jocel yn had dug her heel s i n, sayi ng t hat she’ d spent her lif e tryi ng t o keep
Cl ary out of t he Shado whunt er cult ur e, whi ch she sa w as danger ous —not j ust vi ol ent, she ar gued, but i sol ati oni st
and cr uel. Onl y a year ago, she poi nt ed out t o Cl ary, Cl ary’ s deci si on t o be tr ai ned as a Shado whunt er woul d have
meant she coul d never speak t o her mot her agai n. Cl ary ar gued back t hat t he f act t hat t he Cl ave had suspended
r ul es li ke t hat whil e t he ne w Council r evi e wed t he La ws meant t hat t he Cl ave had changed si nce Jocel yn had been
a girl, and any way, Cl ary needed t o kno w ho w t o def end herself.
“I hope t hi s i sn’t j ust because of Jace,” Jocel yn had sai d fi nall y. “I kno w ho w it i s when you’r e i n l ove wit h so meone.
You want t o be wher e t hey ar e and do what t hey do, but Cl ary —”
“I a m not you,” Cl ary had sai d, str uggli ng t o contr ol her anger, “t he Shado whunt ers ar en’t t he Circl e, and Jace i sn’t
Valentine.”
“I di dn’t say anyt hi ng about Val enti ne.”
“It’ s what you wer e t hi nki ng,” Cl ary had sai d. “ Maybe Val enti ne br ought Jace up, but Jace i sn’t anyt hi ng li ke hi m.”
“ Well, I hope not,” Jocel yn had sai d softl y. “ For all our sakes.” Event uall y she had gi ven i n, but wit h so me r ul es:
Cl ary wasn’t t o li ve i n t he I nstit ut e but wit h her mot her at Luke’ s; Jocel yn got weekl y pr ogr ess r eport s fr o m Maryse
t o assur e her t hat Cl ary was l ear ni ng and not j ust, Cl ary supposed, ogli ng Jace all day, or what ever she was
worried about. And Cl ary wasn’t t o spend t he ni ght at t he I nstit ut e —ever. “ No sl eepovers wher e your boyfri end
li ves,” Jocel yn had sai d fir ml y. “I don’t car e if it i s t he I nstit ut e. No.”
Boyfri end. It was still a shock, heari ng t he wor d. For so l ong it had see med a t ot al i mpossi bilit y t hat Jace woul d
ever be her boyfri end, t hat t hey coul d ever be anyt hi ng t o each ot her at all but br ot her and si st er, and t hat had
been too hard and horrible to face. Never seeing each other again, they had decided, would have been better
t han t hat, and t hat woul d have been li ke dyi ng. And t hen, by a mir acl e, t hey had been set fr ee. No w it had been si x
weeks, but Cl ary wasn’t tir ed of t he wor d yet.
“I have t o get ho me,” she sai d. “It’ s al most el even, and my mo m fr eaks if I st ay her e past t en.”
“ All ri ght.” Jace dr opped hi s gear, or at l east t he t op half of it, ont o t he bench. He wor e a t hi n T-shirt under neat h;
Cl ary coul d see hi s Marks t hr ough it, li ke i nk bl eedi ng t hr ough wet paper. “I’ll wal k you out.”
The I nstit ut e was qui et as t hey passed t hr ough. Ther e wer e no vi siti ng Shado whunt ers fr o m ot her citi es st ayi ng
ri ght no w. Robert, Isabell e and Al ec’ s f at her, was i n I dri s hel pi ng set up t he ne w Council, and wit h Hodge and Max
gone f or ever, and Al ec a way wit h Magnus, Cl ary f elt as if t he r e mai ni ng occupant s wer e li ke guest s i n a mostl y
empty hotel. She wished other members of the Conclave would come around more often, but she supposed
everyone was gi vi ng t he Li ght woods ti me at t he mo ment. Ti me t o r e me mber Max, and ti me t o f or get.
“So have you heard from Alec and Magnus lately?” she asked. “Are they having a good time?”
“ Sounds li ke it.” Jace t ook hi s phone out of hi s pocket and handed it t o her. “ Al ec keeps sendi ng me annoyi ng
phot os. Lot s of capti ons li ke Wi sh you wer e her e, except not r eall y.”
“ Well, you can’t bl a me hi m. It’ s supposed t o be a r o manti c vacati on.” She fli pped t hr ough t he phot os on Jace’ s
phone and gi ggl ed. Al ec and Magnus st andi ng i n fr ont of t he Eiff el To wer, Al ec weari ng j eans as usual and
Magnus wearing a striped fisherman’s sweater, leather pants, and an insane beret. In the Boboli Gardens, Alec
was still wearing jeans, and Magnus was wearing an enormous Venetian cloak and a gondolier’s hat. He looked
li ke t he Phant o m of t he Oper a. I n fr ont of t he Pr ado he was weari ng a sparkli ng mat ador j acket and pl atf or m
boots, while Alec appeared to be calmly feeding a pigeon in the background.
“I’ m t aki ng t hat a way fr o m you bef or e you get t o t he I ndi a part,” sai d Jace, r etri evi ng hi s phone. “ Magnus i n a sari.
So me t hi ngs you don’t ever f or get.”
Clary laughed. They had already reached the elevator, which opened its rattling gate when Jace pushed the call
butt on. She st epped i nsi de, and Jace f oll o wed her. The mo ment t he el evat or st art ed do wn —Cl ary di dn’t t hi nk
she’ d ever get used t o t he i niti al heart-st oppi ng l urch as it began it s descent —he moved t o war d Cl ary i n t he
di mness, and dr e w her cl ose. She put her hands agai nst hi s chest, f eeli ng t he har d muscl es under hi s T-shirt, t he
beat of hi s heart beneat h t he m. I n t he shado wy li ght hi s eyes shone. “I’ m sorry I can’t st ay,” she whi sper ed.
“ Don’t be sorry.” Ther e was a r agged edge t o hi s voi ce t hat sur pri sed her. “Jocel yn doesn’t want you t o t ur n out
li ke me. I don’t bl a me her f or t hat.”
“Jace,” she sai d, a littl e be wil der ed by t he bitt er ness i n hi s voi ce, “ ar e you all ri ght ?”
I nst ead of ans weri ng he ki ssed her, pulli ng her har d agai nst hi m. Hi s body pr essed hers agai nst t he wall, t he
met al of t he mirr or col d agai nst her back, hi s hands sli di ng ar ound her wai st, up under her s weat er. She al ways
l oved t he way he hel d her. Car ef ul, but not t oo gentl e, not so gentl e t hat she ever f elt he was mor e i n contr ol t han
she was. Neit her of t he m coul d contr ol ho w t hey f elt about each ot her, and she li ked t hat, li ked t he way hi s heart
ha mmer ed agai nst hers, li ked t he way he mur mur ed agai nst her mout h when she ki ssed hi m back.
The el evat or ca me t o a r attli ng st op, and t he gat e opened. Beyond it, she coul d see t he e mpt y nave of t he
cat hedr al, li ght shi mmeri ng i n a li ne of candel abr as do wn t he cent er ai sl e. She cl ung t o Jace, gl ad t her e was very
littl e li ght i n t he el evat or so she coul dn’t see her o wn bur ni ng f ace i n t he mirr or.
“ Maybe I can st ay,” she whi sper ed. “Just a littl e whil e l onger.”
He sai d not hi ng. She coul d f eel t he t ensi on i n hi m, and t ensed herself. It was mor e t han j ust t he t ensi on of desir e.
He was shaki ng, hi s whol e body tr e mbli ng as he buri ed hi s f ace i n t he cr ook of her neck.
“Jace,” she said.
He l et go of her t hen, suddenl y, and st epped back. Hi s cheeks wer e fl ushed, hi s eyes f ever- bri ght. “ No,” he sai d. “I
don’t want t o gi ve your mot her anot her r eason not t o li ke me. She alr eady t hi nks I’ m t he second co mi ng of my
f at her —”
He br oke off, bef or e Cl ary coul d say, Val enti ne wasn’t your f at her. Jace was usuall y so car ef ul t o r ef er t o Val enti ne
Mor genst er n by na me, never as “ my f at her” —when he menti oned Val enti ne at all. Usuall y t hey st ayed a way fr o m
t he t opi c, and Cl ary had never ad mitt ed t o Jace t hat her mot her worri ed t hat he was secr etl y j ust li ke Val enti ne,
kno wi ng t hat even t he suggesti on woul d hurt hi m badl y. Mostl y Cl ary j ust di d everyt hi ng she coul d t o keep t he t wo
of t he m apart.
He r eached past her bef or e she coul d say anyt hi ng, and yanked open t he el evat or gat e. “I l ove you, Cl ary,” he sai d
wit hout l ooki ng at her. He was st ari ng out i nt o t he church, at t he r o ws of li ght ed candl es, t heir gol d r efl ect ed i n hi s
eyes. “ Mor e t han I ever —” He br oke off. “ God. Mor e t han I pr obabl y shoul d. You kno w t hat, don’t you?”
She st epped out si de t he el evat or and t ur ned t o f ace hi m. Ther e wer e a t housand t hi ngs she want ed t o say, but he
was alr eady l ooki ng a way fr o m her, pushi ng t he butt on t hat woul d bri ng t he el evat or back up t o t he I nstit ut e fl oors.
She st art ed t o pr ot est, but t he el evat or was alr eady movi ng, t he doors cl osi ng as it r attl ed it s way back up. They
shut wit h a cli ck, and she st ar ed at t he m f or a mo ment; t he Angel was pai nt ed on t heir surf ace, wi ngs out spr ead,
eyes raised. The Angel was painted on everything.
Her voi ce echoed harshl y i n t he e mpt y r oo m when she spoke. “I l ove you, t oo,” she sai d.
3S
EVENFOLD
“ You kno w what’ s a weso me?” sai d Eri c, setti ng do wn hi s d r u msti cks. “ Havi ng a va mpir e i n our band. Thi s
i s t he t hi ng t hat’ s r eall y goi ng t o t ake us over t he t op.”
Kirk, l o weri ng t he mi cr ophone, r oll ed hi s eyes. Eri c was al ways t al ki ng about t aki ng t he band over t he t op, and so
f ar not hi ng had ever act uall y mat eri ali zed. The best t hey’ d ever done was a gi g at t he Knitti ng Fact ory, and onl y
f our peopl e had co me t o t hat. And one of t he m had been Si mon’ s mo m. “I don’t see ho w it can t ake us over t he
t op if we’r e not all o wed t o t ell anyone he’ s a va mpir e.”
“ Too bad,” sai d Si mon. He was sitti ng on one of t he speakers, next t o Cl ary, who was engr ossed i n t exti ng
someone, probably Jace. “No one’s going to believe you anyway, becausel ook —her e I a m. Dayli ght.” He r ai sed
hi s ar ms t o i ndi cat e t he sunli ght pouri ng t hr ough t he hol es i n t he r oof of Eri c’ s gar age, whi ch was t heir curr ent
practice space.
“ That does so me what i mpact our cr edi bilit y,” sai d Matt, pushi ng hi s bri ght r ed hair out of hi s eyes and squi nti ng at
Si mon. “ Maybe you coul d wear f ake f angs.”
“ He doesn’t need f ake f angs,” sai d Cl ary irrit abl y, l o weri ng her phone. “ He has r eal f angs. You’ ve seen t he m.”
Thi s was tr ue. Si mon had had t o whi p out t he f angs when i niti all y br eaki ng t he ne ws t o t he band. At first t hey’ d
t hought he’ d had a head i nj ury, or a ment al br eakdo wn. Aft er he’ d fl ashed t he f angs at t he m, t hey’ d co me ar ound.
Eri c had even ad mitt ed t hat he wasn’t parti cul arl y sur pri sed. “I al ways kne w t her e wer e va mpir es, dude,” he’ d
sai d. “ Because, you kno w ho w t her e’ s peopl e you kno w who, li ke, al ways l ook t he sa me, even when t hey’r e, li ke, a
hundred years old? Like David Bowie? That’s because they’re vampires.”
Si mon had dr a wn t he li ne at t elli ng t he m t hat Cl ary and Isabell e wer e Shado whunt ers. That wasn’t hi s secr et t o t ell.
Nor di d t hey kno w t hat Mai a was a wer e wolf. They j ust t hought t hat Mai a and Isabell e wer e t wo hot girl s who had
bot h i nexpli cabl y agr eed t o dat e Si mon. They put t hi s do wn t o what Kirk call ed hi s “sexy va mpir e moj o.” Si mon
di dn’t r eall y car e what t hey call ed it, as l ong as t hey never sli pped up and t ol d Mai a and Isabell e about each ot her.
So f ar he’ d managed t o successf ull y i nvit e t he m each t o alt er nat e gi gs, so t hey never sho wed up at t he sa me one
at t he sa me ti me.
“ Maybe you coul d sho w t he f angs onst age?” Eri c suggest ed. “Just, li ke, once, dude. Fl ash ’ e m at t he cr o wd.”
“If he di d t hat, t he l eader of t he Ne w York Cit y va mpir e c l an woul d kill you all,” Cl ary sai d. “ You kno w t hat, ri ght ?”
She shook her head in Simon’s direction. “I can’t believe you told them you’re a vampire,” she added, lowering her
voi ce so onl y Si mon coul d hear her. “ They’r e i di ot s, i n case you haven’t noti ced.”
“ They’r e my fri ends,” Si mon mutt er ed.
“They’re your frien dasn,d t hey’r e i di ot s.”
“I want peopl e I car e about t o kno w t he tr ut h about me.”
“ Oh?” Cl ary sai d, not very ki ndl y. “ So when ar e you goi ng t o t ell your mot her ?”
Bef or e Si mon coul d r epl y, t her e was a l oud r ap on t he gar age door, and a mo ment l at er it sli d up, l etti ng mor e
aut u mn sunli ght pour i nsi de. Si mon l ooked over, bli nki ng. It was a r efl ex, r eall y, l eft over fr o m when he had been
hu man. It no l onger t ook hi s eyes mor e t han a split second t o adj ust t o darkness or li ght.
Ther e was a boy st andi ng at t he gar age entr ance, backlit by bri ght sun. He hel d a pi ece of paper i n hi s hand. He
l ooked do wn at it uncert ai nl y, and t hen back up at t he band. “ Hey,” he sai d. “Is t hi s wher e I can fi nd t he band
Dangerous Stain?”
“ We’r e Di chot o mous Le mur no w,” sai d Eri c, st eppi ng f or war d. “ Who want s t o kno w?”
“I’ m Kyl e,” sai d t he boy, ducki ng under t he gar age door. Str ai ght eni ng up, he fli pped back t he br o wn hair t hat f ell
i nt o hi s eyes and hel d out hi s pi ece of paper t o Eri c. “I sa w you wer e l ooki ng f or a l ead si nger.”
“ Whoa,” sai d Matt. “ We put t hat fl yer up, li ke, a year ago. I t ot all y f or got about it.”
“ Yeah,” sai d Eri c. “ We wer e doi ng so me diff er ent st uff back t hen. No w we mostl y s wit ch off on vocal s. You have
experience?”
Kyl e —who was very t all, Si mon sa w, t hough not at all gangl y —shr ugged. “ Not r eall y. But I’ m t ol d I can si ng.” He
had a sl o w, sli ghtl y dr a wli ng di cti on, mor e surf er t han Sout her n.
The me mbers of t he band l ooked uncert ai nl y at one anot her. Eri c scr at ched behi nd hi s ear. “ Can you gi ve us a
second, dude?”
“ Sur e.” Kyl e ducked back out of t he gar age, sli di ng t he door cl osed behi nd hi m. Si mon coul d hear hi m whi stli ng
f ai ntl y out si de. It sounded li ke “ She’ll Be Co mi n’ Round t he Mount ai n.” It wasn’t parti cul arl y i n t une, eit her.
“I dunno,” Eri c sai d. “I’ m not sur e we can use anyone ne w ri ght no w. ’ Cause, I mean, we can’t t ell hi m about t he
va mpir e t hi ng, can we?”
“ No,” sai d Si mon. “ You can’t.”
“ Well, t hen.” Matt shr ugged. “It’ s t oo bad. We need a si nger. Kirk sucks. No off ense, Kirk.”
“ Scr e w you,” sai d Kirk. “I do not suck.”
“ Yes, you do,” sai d Matt. “ You suck bi g, hairyI —” “ t hi nk,” Cl ary i nt err upt ed, r ai si ng her voi ce, “t hat you shoul d l et
hi m try out.”
Si mon st ar ed at her. “ Why?”
“ Because he i s super hot,” Cl ary sai d, t o Si mon’ s sur pri se. He hadn’t been enor mousl y str uck by Kyl e’ s l ooks, but
then, perhaps he wasn’t the best judge of male beauty. “And your band needs some sex appeal.”
“ Thank you,” sai d Si mon. “ On behalf of us all, t hank you very much.”
Cl ary made an i mpati ent noi se. “ Yes, yes, you’r e all fi ne-l ooki ng guys. Especi all y you, Si mon.” She patt ed hi s
hand. “ But Kyl e i s hot li ke ‘ whoa.’ I’ m j ust sayi ng. My obj ecti ve opi ni on as a f e mal e i s t hat if you add Kyl e t o your
band, you will double your female fan base.”
“ Whi ch means we’ll have t wo f e mal e f ans i nst ead of one,” sai d Kirk.
“ Which one?” Matt looked genuinely curious.
“ Eri c’ s littl e cousi n’ s fri end. What’ s her na me? The one who has a cr ush on Si mon. She co mes t o all our gi gs and
t ell s everyone she’ s hi s girlfri end.”
Si mon wi nced. “ She’ s t hirt een.”
“ That’ s your sexy va mpir e moj o at work, man,” sai d Matt. “ The l adi es cannot r esi st you.”
“ Oh, f or God’ s sake,” sai d Cl ary. “ Ther e i s no such t hi ng as sexy va mpir e moj o.” She poi nt ed a fi nger at Eri c. “ And
don’t even say that Sexy Vampire Mojo sounds like a band name, or I’ll—”
The gar age door s wung back up. “ Uh, dudes?” It was Kyl e agai n. “ Look, if you don’t want me t o try out, it’ s cool.
Maybe you changed your sound, what ever. Just say t he wor d, and I’ m out.”
Eri c cocked hi s head t o t he si de. “ Co me on i n and l et’ s get a l ook at you.”
Kyl e st epped i nt o t he gar age. Si mon st ar ed at hi m, tryi ng t o gauge what it was t hat had made Cl ary say he was
hot. He was t all and br oad-shoul der ed and sli m, wit h hi gh cheekbones, l ongi sh bl ack hair t hat t u mbl ed over hi s
f or ehead and do wn hi s neck i n curl s, and br o wn ski n t hat hadn’t l ost it s su mmery t an yet. Hi s l ong, t hi ck eyel ashes
over st artli ng hazel- gr een eyes made hi m l ook li ke a pr ett y- boy r ock st ar. He wor e a fitt ed gr een T-shirt and j eans,
and t wi ni ng bot h hi s bar e ar ms wer e t att oos —not Marks, j ust or di nary t att oos. They l ooked li ke scr olli ng scri pt
wi ndi ng ar ound hi s ski n, di sappeari ng up t he sl eeves of hi s shirt.
Okay, Si mon had t o ad mit. He wasn’t hi deous.
“ You kno w,” Kirk sai d fi nall y, br eaki ng t he sil ence. “I see it. He i s pr ett y hot.”
Kyl e bli nked and t ur ned t o Eri c. “ So, do you want me t o si ng or not ?”
Eri c det ached t he mi ke fr o m it s st and and handed it t o hi m. “ Go ahead,” he sai d. “ Gi ve it a try.”
“ You kno w, he was r eall y pr ett y good,” Cl ary sai d. “I was ki nd of ki ddi ng about i ncl udi ng Kyl e i n t he band, but he
can act uall y si ng.”
They were walking along Kent Avenue, toward Luke’s house. The sky had darkened from blue to gray in
pr epar ati on f or t wili ght, and cl ouds hung l o w over t he East Ri ver. Cl ary was tr aili ng one of her gl oved hands al ong
t he chai n-li nk f ence t hat separ at ed t he m fr o m t he cr acked concr et e e mbank ment, maki ng t he met al r attl e.
“ You’r e j ust sayi ng t hat because you t hi nk he’ s hot,” sai d Si mon.
She di mpl ed. “ Not t hat hot. Not, li ke, t he hott est guy I’ ve ever seen.” Whi ch, Si mon i magi ned, woul d be Jace,
t hough she was ni ce enough not t o say it. “ But I t hought it woul d be a good i dea t o have hi m i n t he band, honestl y.
If Eri c and t he r est of t he m can’t t ehlil m you’r e a va mpir e, t hey can’t t ell everyone el se, eit her. Hopef ull y it’ll put an
end t o t hat st upi d i dea.” They wer e nearl y at Luke’ s house; Si mon coul d see it acr oss t he str eet, t he wi ndo ws lit up
yell o w agai nst t he co mi ng dark. Cl ary paused at a gap i n t he f ence. “ Re me mber when we kill ed a bunch of Rau m
demons here?”
“ You and Jace kill ed so me Rau m de mons. I al most t hr e w u p.” Si mon r e me mber ed, but hi s mi nd wasn’t on it; he
was t hi nki ng of Ca mill e, sitti ng acr oss fr o m hi m i n t he court yar d, sayi ng, You befri end Shado whunt ers, but you can
never be of them. You will always be other and outside. He looked sideways at Clary, wondering what she would
say if he t ol d her about hi s meeti ng wit h t he va mpir e, and her off er. He i magi ned t hat she woul d pr obabl y be
t errifi ed. The f act t hat he coul dn’t be har med hadn’t yet st opped her fr o m worryi ng about hi s saf et y.
“ You woul dn’t be scar ed no w,” she sai d softl y, as if r eadi ng hi s mi nd. “ No w you have t he Mark.” She t ur ned t o l ook
at hi m, still l eani ng agai nst t he f ence. “ Does anyone ever noti ce or ask you about it ?”
He shook hi s head. “ My hair covers it, mostl y, and any way, it’ s f aded a l ot. See?” He pushed hi s hair asi de.
Clary reached out and touched his forehead and the curving scripted Mark there. Her eyes were sad, as they had
been t hat day i n t he Hall of Accor ds i n Ali cant e, when she’ d cut t he ol dest curse of t he worl d i nt o hi s ski n. “ Does it
hurt?”
“ No. No, it doesn’t.” And Cai n sai d unt o t he Lor d, My puni sh ment i s gr eat er t han I can bea“r.Y ou know I don’t
blame you, don’t you? You saved my life.”
“I know.” Her eyes were shining. She dropped her hand from his forehead and scrubbed the back of her glove
acr oss her f ace. “ Da mn. I hat e cryi ng.”
“ Well, you bett er get used t o it,” he sai d, and when her eyes wi dened, he added hastil y, “I meant t he weddi ng. It’ s
what, next Sat ur day? Everyone cri es at weddi ngs.”
She snorted.
“How are your mom and Luke, anyway?”
“ Di sgusti ngl y i n l ove. It’ s horri bl e. Any way —” She patt ed hi m on t he shoul der. “I shoul d go i n. See you t o morr o w?”
He nodded. “Sure. Tomorrow.”
He wat ched her as she r an acr oss t he str eet and up t he st airs t o Luke’ s fr ont door. Tomorrow. He wondered how
long it had been since he had gone more than a few days without seeing Clary. He wondered about being a
fugitive and a wanderer on the earth, like Camille had said. Like Raphael had said. Thy brother’s blood crieth unto
me fr o m t he gr ound. He wasn’t Cai n, who had kill ed hi s br ot her, but t he curse beli eved he was. It was str ange, he
t hought, waiti ng t o l ose everyt hi ng, not kno wi ng if it woul d happen, or not.
The door shut behi nd Cl ary. Si mon t ur ned t o head do wn Kent, t o war d t he G tr ai n st op at Lori mer Str eet. It was
nearl y f ull dark no w, t he sky over head a s wirl of gr ay and bl ack. Si mon hear d tir es squeal on t he r oad behi nd hi m,
but he di dn’t t ur n ar ound. Cars dr ove t oo f ast on t hi s str eet all t he ti me, despit e t he cr acks and pot hol es. It wasn’t
until t he bl ue van dr e w up besi de hi m and scr eeched t o a st op t hat he t ur ned t o l ook.
The van’ s dri ver yanked t he keys fr o m t he i gniti on, killi ng t he engi ne, and t hr e w open t he door. It was a man —a t all
man, dr essed i n a gr ay hooded tr acksuit and sneakers, t he hood pull ed do wn so l o w t hat it hi d most of hi s f ace.
He l eaped do wn fr o m t he dri ver’ s seat, and Si mon sa w t hat t her e was a l ong, shi mmeri ng knif e i n hi s hand.
Lat er Si mon woul d t hi nk t hat he shoul d have r un. He was a va mpir e, f ast er t han any hu man. He coul d outr un
anyone. He shoul d have r un, but he was t oo st artl ed; he st ood still as t he man, gl ea mi ng knif e i n hand, ca me
t o war d hi m. The man sai d so met hi ng i n a l o w, gutt ur al voi ce, so met hi ng i n a l anguage Si mon di dn’t underst and.
Si mon t ook a st ep back. “ Look,” he sai d, r eachi ng f or hi s pocket. “ You can have my wall et —”
The man l unged at Si mon, pl ungi ng t he knif e t o war d hi s chest. Si mon st ar ed do wn i n di sbeli ef. Everyt hi ng
see med t o be happeni ng very sl o wl y, as if ti me wer e str et chi ng out. He sa w t he poi nt of t he knif e near hi s chest,
t he ti p denti ng t he l eat her of hi s j acket —and t hen it shear ed t o t he si de, as if so meone had gr abbed hi s att acker’ s
arm and yanked. The man screamed as he was jerked up into the air like a puppet being hauled up by its strings.
Simon looked around wildly—surely someone must have heard or noticed the commotion, but no one appeared.
The man kept scr ea mi ng, j erki ng wil dl y, whil e hi s shirt t or e open do wn t he fr ont, as if ri pped apart by an i nvi si bl e
hand.
Simon stared in horror. Huge wounds were appearing on the man’s torso. His head flew back, and blood sprayed
fr o m hi s mout h. He st opped scr ea mi ng abr uptl y —and f ell, as if t he i nvi si bl e hand had opened, r el easi ng hi m. He
hit t he gr ound and br oke apart li ke gl ass shatt eri ng i nt o a t housand shi ni ng pi eces t hat scatt er ed t he msel ves
across the pavement.
Si mon dr opped t o hi s knees. The knif e t hat had been meant t o kill hi m l ay a littl e way a way, wit hi n ar m’ s r each. It
was all t hat was l eft of hi s att acker, save a pil e of shi mmeri ng cryst al s t hat wer e alr eady begi nni ng t o bl o w a way i n
t he bri sk wi nd. He t ouched one cauti ousl y.
It was salt. He l ooked do wn at hi s hands. They wer e shaki ng. He kne w what had happened, and why.
And t he Lor d sai d unt o hi m, Ther ef or e whosoever sl ayet h Cai n, vengeance shall be t aken on hi m sevenf ol d .
So t hi s was what sevenf ol d l ooked li ke.
He barely made it to the gutter before he doubled over and vomited blood into the street.
The moment Simon opened the door, he knew he’d miscalculated. He’d thought his mother would be asleep by
no w, but she wasn’t. She was a wake, sitti ng i n an ar mchair f aci ng t he fr ont door, her phone on t he t abl e next t o
her, and she sa w t he bl ood on hi s j acket i mmedi at el y.
To hi s sur pri se she di dn’t scr ea m, but her hand fl e w t o her mout h. “ Si mon.”
“It’ s not my bl ood,” he sai d qui ckl y. “I was over at Eri c’ s, and Matt had a nosebl eed —”
“I don’t want t o hear it.” That shar p t one was one she r ar el y used; it r e mi nded hi m of t he way she’ d t al ked duri ng
t hose l ast mont hs when hi s f at her had been si ck, anxi et y li ke a knif e i n her voi ce. “I don’t want t o hear any mor e
li es.”
Si mon dr opped hi s keys ont o t he t abl e next t o t he door. “ Mo m—”
“ All you do i s t ell me li es. I’ m tir ed of it.”
“ That’ s not tr ue,” he sai d, but he f elt si ck, kno wi ng it was. “I j ust have a l ot goi ng on i n my lif e ri ght no w.”
“I kno w you do.” Hi s mot her got t o her f eet; she had al ways been a ski nny wo man, and she l ooked bony no w, her
dark hair, t he sa me col or as hi s, str eaked wit h mor e gr ay t han he had r e me mber ed wher e it f ell ar ound her f ace.
“ Co me wit h me, young man. No w.”
Puzzl ed, Si mon f oll o wed her i nt o t he s mall bri ght-yell o w kit chen. Hi s mot her st opped and poi nt ed t o war d t he
count er. “ Car e t o expl ai n t hose?”
Si mon’ s mout h went dry. Li ned up al ong t he count er li ke a r o w of t oy sol di ers wer e t he bottl es of bl ood t hat had
been i n t he mi ni-fri dge i nsi de hi s cl oset. One was half-f ull, t he ot hers entir el y f ull, t he r ed li qui d i nsi de t he m shi ni ng
li ke an accusati on. She had al so f ound t he e mpt y bl ood bags he had washed out and car ef ull y st uff ed i nsi de a
shoppi ng bag bef or e du mpi ng t he m i nt o hi s tr ash can. They wer e spr ead out over t he count er t oo, li ke a
grotesque decoration.
“I t hought at first t he bottl es wer e wi ne,” El ai ne Le wi s sai d i n a shaki ng voi ce. “ Then I f ound t he bags. So I opened
one of t he bottl es. It’ s bloodI.s n’t it ?”
Simon said nothing. His voice seemed to have fled.
“ You’ ve been acti ng so str angel y l at el y,” hi s mot her went on. “ Out at all hours, you never eat, you bar el y sl eep, you
have fri ends I’ ve never met, never hear d of. You t hi nk I can’t t ell when you’r e l yi ng t o me? I can t ell, Si mon. I t hought
maybe you were on drugs.”
Simon found his voice. “So you searched my room?”
Hi s mot her fl ushed. “I had t o! I t hought —I t hought if I f ound dr ugs t her e, I coul d hel p you, get you i nt o a r ehab
pr ogr a m, but t hi s?” She gest ur ed wil dl y at t he bottl es. “I don’t even kno w what t o t hi nk about t hi s. What’ s goi ng on,
Si mon? Have you j oi ned so me ki nd of cult ?”
Si mon shook his head.
“ Then, t ell me,” hi s mot her sai d, her li ps tr e mbli ng. “ Because t he onl y expl anati ons I can t hi nk of ar e horri bl e and
sick. Simon, please—”
“I’ m a va mpir e,” Si mon sai d. He had no i dea ho w he had sai d it, or even why. But t her e it was. The wor ds hung i n
the air between them like poisonous gas.
Hi s mot her’ s knees see med t o gi ve out, and she sank i nt o a kit chen chair. “ What di d you say?” she br eat hed.
“I’ m a va mpir e,” Si mon sai d. “I’ ve been one f or about t wo mont hs no w. I’ m sorry I di dn’t t ell you bef or e. I di dn’t
know how.”
El ai ne Le wi s’ s f ace was chal k whit e. “ Va mpir es don’t exi st, Si mon.”
“ Yes,” he sai d. “ They do. Look, I di dn’t ask t o be a va mpir e. I was att acked. I di dn’t have a choi ce. I’ d change it if I
coul d.” He t hought wil dl y back t o t he pa mphl et Cl ary had gi ven hi m so l ong ago, t he one about co mi ng out t o your
par ent s. It had see med li ke a f unny anal ogy t hen; no w it di dn’t.
“ You t hi nk you’r e a va mpir e,” Si mon’ s mot her sai d nu mbl y. “ You t hi nk you dri nk bl ood.”
“I do dri nk bl ood,” Si mon sai d. “I dri nk ani mal bl ood.”
“ But you’r e a vegetarian.” Hi s mot her l ooked t o be on t he ver ge of t ears.
“I was. I’ m not no w. I can’t be. Bl ood i s what I li ve on.” Si mon’ s t hr oat f elt ti ght. “I’ ve never hurt a person. I’ d never
dri nk so meone’ s bl ood. I’ m still t he sa me person. I’ m still me.”
Hi s mot her see med t o be fi ghti ng f or contr ol. “ Your ne w fri ends —ar e t hey va mpir es t oo?”
Si mon t hought of Isabell e, Mai a, Jace. He coul dn’t expl ai n Shado whunt ers and wer e wol ves, t oo. It was t oo much.
“ No. But —t hey kno w I a m one.”
“Did—did they give you drugs? Make you take something? Something that would make you hallucinate?” She
seemed to have barely heard his answer.
“ No. Mo m, t hi s i s r eal.”
“It’ s not r eal,”
she whispered. “ Ytohiunk it’ s r eal. Oh, God. S i mon. I’ m so sorry. I shoul d have noti ced. We’ll get you hel p. We’ll
fi nd so meone. A doct or. What ever it cost s —”
“I can’t go t o a doct or, Mo m.”
“ Yes, you can. You need t o be so me wher e. A hospit al, maybe —”
He hel d out hi s wri st t o her. “ Feel my pul se,” he sai d.
She looked at him, bewildered. “What?”
“ My pul se,” he sai d. “ Take it. If I have one, okay. I’ll go t o t he hospit al wit h you. If not, you have t o beli eve me.”
She wi ped t he t ears fr o m her eyes and sl o wl y r eached t o t ake hi s wri st. Aft er so l ong t aki ng car e of Si mon’ s f at her
when he’ d been si ck, she kne w ho w t o t ake a pul se as well as any nurse. She pr essed her i ndex fi ngerti p t o t he
i nsi de of hi s wri st, and wait ed.
He wat ched as her f ace changed, fr o m mi sery and upset t o conf usi on, and t hen t o t err or. She st ood up, dr oppi ng
hi s hand, backi ng a way fr o m hi m. Her eyes wer e huge and dark i n her whit e f ace. “ What ar e you?”
Si mon f elt si ck. “I t ol d you. I’ m a va mpir e.”
“ You’r e not my son. You’r e not Si mon.” She was shudderi ng. “ What ki nd of li vi ng t hi ng doesn’t have a pul se? What
ki nd of monst er ar e you? What have you done wit h my chil d? ”
“I a m Si mon —” He t ook a st ep t o war d hi s mot her.
She scr ea med. He had never hear d her scr ea m li ke t hat, and he never want ed t o agai n. It was a horri bl e noi se.
“ Get a way fr o m me.” Her voi ce br oke. “ Don’t co me any cl oser.” She began t o whi sper. “Barukh ata Adonai
sho’ me’ a t’fil a . . .”
She was pr ayi ng, Si mon r eali zed wit h a j olt. She was so t errifi ed of hi m t hat she was pr ayi ng t hat he woul d go
a way, be bani shed. And what was worse was t hat he coul d f eel it. The na me of God ti ght ened hi s st o mach and
made hi s t hr oat ache.
She was ri ght t o pr ay, he t hought, si ck t o hi s soul. He was cursed. He di dn’t bel ong i n t he worl d. What ki nd of li vi ng
thing doesn’t have a pulse?
“ Mo m,” he whi sper ed. “ Mo m, st op.”
She l ooked at hi m, wi de- eyed, her li ps still movi ng.
“ Mo m, you don’t need t o be so upset.” He hear d hi s o wn voi ce as if fr o m a di st ance, soft and soot hi ng, a
str anger’ s voi ce. He kept hi s eyes fi xed on hi s mot her as he spoke, capt uri ng her gaze wit h hi s as a cat mi ght
capt ur e a mouse. “ Not hi ng happened. You f ell asl eep i n t he ar mchair i n t he li vi ng r oo m. You’r e havi ng a bad
dr ea m t hat I ca me ho me and t ol d you I was a va mpir e. But t hat’ s cr azy. That woul d never happen.”
She had stopped praying. She blinked. “I’m dreaming,” she repeated.
“It’ s a bad dr ea m,” Si mon sai d. He moved t o war d her and put hi s hand on her shoul der. She di dn’t pull a way. Her
head was dr oopi ng, li ke a tir ed chil d’ s. “Just a dr ea m. You never f ound anyt hi ng i n my r oo m. Not hi ng happened.
You’ ve j ust been sl eepi ng, t hat’ s all.”
He t ook her hand. She l et hi m l ead her i nt o t he li vi ng r oo m, wher e he settl ed her i nt o t he ar mchair. She s mil ed
when he pulled a blanket over her, and closed her eyes.
He went back i nt o t he kit chen and s wiftl y, met hodi call y, s wept t he bottl es and cont ai ners of bl ood i nt o a gar bage
bag. He ti ed it at t he t op and br ought it t o hi s r oo m, wher e he changed hi s bl oody j acket f or a ne w one, and t hr e w
so me t hi ngs qui ckl y i nt o a duff el bag. He fli pped t he li ght off and l eft, cl osi ng t he door behi nd hi m.
Hi s mot her was alr eady asl eep as he passed t hr ough t he li vi ng r oo m. He r eached out and li ghtl y t ouched her
hand.
“I’ll be gone f or a f e w days,” he whi sper ed. “ But you won’t worry. You won’t expect me back. You t hi nk I’ m on a
school fi el d tri p. Ther e’ s no need t o call. Everyt hi ng i s fi ne.”
He dr e w hi s hand back. I n t he di m li ght hi s mot her l ooked bot h ol der and younger t han he was used t o. She was
as s mall as a chil d, curl ed under t he bl anket, but t her e wer e ne w li nes on her f ace he di dn’t r e me mber bei ng t her e
before.
“ Mo m,” he whi sper ed.
He t ouched her hand, and she stirr ed. Not wanti ng her t o wake, he j erked hi s fi ngers back and moved soundl essl y
t o t he door, gr abbi ng hi s keys fr o m t he t abl e as he went.
The I nstit ut e was qui et. It was al ways qui et t hese days. Jace had t aken t o l eavi ng hi s wi ndo w open at ni ght, so he
coul d hear t he noi ses of tr affi c goi ng by, t he occasi onal wail of a mbul ance sir ens and t he honki ng of hor ns on York
Avenue. He coul d hear t hi ngs mundanes coul dn’t, t oo, and t hese sounds filt er ed t hr ough t he ni ght and i nt o hi s
dr ea ms —t he r ush of air di spl aced by a va mpir e’ s air bor ne mot orcycl e, t he fl utt er of wi nged f ey, t he di st ant ho wl of
wol ves on ni ght s when t he moon was f ull.
It was onl y half-f ull no w, casti ng j ust enough li ght f or hi m t o r ead by as he spr a wl ed on t he bed. He had hi s f at her’ s
sil ver box open i n fr ont of hi m, and was goi ng t hr ough what was i nsi de it. One of hi s f at her’ s st el es was i n t her e,
and a sil ver- handl ed hunti ng dagger wit h t he i niti al s S WH on t he handl e, and —of most i nt er est t o Jace —a pil e of
l ett ers.
Over t he past si x weeks he had t aken t o r eadi ng a l ett er or so every ni ght, tryi ng t o get a sense f or t he man who
was hi s bi ol ogi cal f at her. A pi ct ur e had begun t o e mer ge sl o wl y, of a t houghtf ul young man wit h har d- dri vi ng
par ent s who had been dr a wn t o Val enti ne and t he Circl e because t hey had see med t o off er hi m an opport unit y t o
di sti ngui sh hi mself i n t he worl d. He had kept writi ng t o A mati s even aft er t heir di vorce, so met hi ng she hadn’t
menti oned bef or e. I n t hose l ett ers, hi s di senchant ment wit h Val enti ne and si ckness at t he Circl e’ s acti viti es wer e
cl ear, t hough he r ar el y, if ever, menti oned Jace’ s mot her, Céli ne. It made sense —A mati s woul dn’t have want ed t o
hear about her r epl ace ment —and yet Jace coul d not hel p hati ng hi s f at her a littl e f or it. If he hadn’t car ed about
Jace’ s mot her, why marry her ? If he’ d hat ed t he Circl e so much, why hadn’t he l eft it ? Val enti ne had been a
mad man, but at l east he’ d st ood by hi s pri nci pl es.
And t hen, of course, Jace onl y f elt worse f or pr ef erri ng Val enti ne t o hi s r eal f at her. What ki nd of person di d t hat
make hi m?
A knock on t he door dr e w hi m out of hi s self-r ecri mi nati ons; he got t o hi s f eet and went t o ans wer it, expecti ng
Isabelle to be there, wanting to either borrow something or complain about something.
But it wasn’t Isabell e. It was Cl ary.
She wasn’t dr essed t he way she usuall y was. She had a l o w-cut bl ack t ank t op on, a whit e bl ouse ti ed l oose and
open over it, and a short skirt, short enough t o sho w t he curves of her l egs up t o mi dt hi gh. She wor e her bri ght r ed
hair i n br ai ds, l oose curl s of it cli ngi ng agai nst t he holl o ws of her t e mpl es, as if it had been r ai ni ng li ghtl y out si de.
She s mil ed when she sa w hi m, archi ng her eyebr o ws. They wer e coppery, li ke t he fi ne eyel ashes t hat fr a med her
gr een eyes. “ Ar en’t you goi ng t o l et me i n?”
He l ooked up and do wn t he hall way. No one el se was t her e, t hank God. Taki ng Cl ary by t he ar m, he pull ed her
i nsi de and shut t he door. Leani ng agai nst it, he sai d, “ What ar e you doi ng her e? Is everyt hi ng all ri ght ?”
“ Everyt hi ng’ s fi ne.” She ki cked off her shoes and sat do wn on t he edge of t he bed. Her skirt r ode up as she
l eaned back on her hands, sho wi ng mor e t hi gh. It wasn’t doi ng wonders f or Jace’ s concentr ati on. “I mi ssed you.
And Mo m and Luke ar e asl eep. They won’t noti ce I’ m gone.”
“ You shoul dn’t be her e.” The wor ds ca me out as a sort of gr oan. He hat ed sayi ng t he m but kne w t hey needed t o
be said, for reasons she didn’t even know. And he hoped she never would.
“ Well, if you want me t o go, I will.” She st ood up. Her eyes wer e shi mmeri ngl y gr een. She t ook a st ep cl oser t o
hi m. “ But I ca me all t he way her e. You coul d at l east ki ss me good- bye.”
He r eached f or her and dr e w her i n, and ki ssed her. Ther e wer e so me t hi ngs you had t o do, even if t hey wer e a
bad i dea. She f ol ded i nt o hi s ar ms li ke deli cat e sil k. He put hi s hands i n her hair and r an hi s fi ngers t hr ough it,
unt wi sti ng her br ai ds until her hair f ell ar ound her shoul ders t he way he li ked it. He r e me mber ed wanti ng t o do t hi s
t he first ti me he had seen her, and di s mi ssi ng t he i dea as i nsane. She was a mundane, she’ d been a str anger,
t her e’ d been no sense i n wanti ng her. And t hen he had ki ssed her f or t he first ti me, i n t he gr eenhouse, and it had
almost made him crazy. They had gone downstairs and been interrupted by Simon, and he had never wanted to
kill anyone as much as he had want ed t o kill Si mon i n t hat mo ment, t hough he kne w, i nt ell ect uall y, t hat Si mon
hadn’t done anyt hi ng wr ong. But what he f elt had not hi ng t o do wit h i nt ell ect, and when he had i magi ned her
l eavi ng hi m f or Si mon, t he t hought had made hi m si ck and scar ed t he way no de mon ever had.
And t hen Val enti ne had t ol d t he m t hey wer e br ot her and si st er, and Jace had r eali zed t hat t her e wer e worse
t hi ngs, i nfi nit el y worse t hi ngs, t han Cl ary l eavi ng hi m f or so meone el se —and t hat was kno wi ng t hat t he way he
loved her was somehow cosmically wrong; that what had seemed the most pure and most irreproachable thing in
hi s lif e had no w been defil ed beyond r ede mpti on. He r e me mber ed hi s f at her sayi ng t hat when angel s f ell, t hey f ell
i n angui sh, because once t hey had seen t he f ace of God, and no w t hey never woul d agai n. And he had t hought he
kne w ho w t hey f elt.
It had not made hi m want her any l ess; it had j ust t ur ned wanti ng her i nt o t ort ur e. So meti mes t he shado w of t hat
t ort ur e f ell acr oss hi s me mori es even when he was ki ssi ng her, as he was no w, and made hi m cr ush her mor e
ti ghtl y t o hi m. She made a sur pri sed noi se but di dn’t pr ot est, even when he lift ed her up and carri ed her over t o t he
bed.
They spr a wl ed ont o it t oget her, cr u mpli ng so me of t he l ett ers, Jace knocki ng t he box it self asi de t o make r oo m f or
t he m. Hi s heart was ha mmeri ng agai nst t he i nsi de of hi s ri bs. They had never been i n bed t oget her li ke t hi s
bef or e, not r eall y. Ther e had been t hat ni ght i n her r oo m i n I dri s, but t hey had bar el y t ouched. Jocel yn was car ef ul
never t o l et eit her of t he m spend t he ni ght wher e t he ot her one li ved. She di dn’t car e much f or hi m, Jace
suspected, and he could hardly blame her. He doubted he would have liked himself much, if he’d been in her
position.
“I l ove you,” Cl ary whi sper ed. She had hi s shirt off, and her fi ngerti ps wer e tr aci ng t he scars on hi s back, and t he
st ar-shaped scar on hi s shoul der t hat was t he t wi n of her o wn, a r eli c of t he angel whose bl ood t hey bot h shar ed. “I
don’t ever want t o l ose you.”
He sli d hi s hand do wn t o unti e her knott ed bl ouse. Hi s ot her hand, br aced agai nst t he mattr ess, t ouched t he col d
met al of t he hunti ng dagger; it must have spill ed ont o t he bed wit h t he r est of t he cont ent s of t he box. “ That will
never happen.”
She l ooked up at hi m wit h l u mi nous eyes. “ Ho w can you be so sur e?”
Hi s hand ti ght ened on t he knif e hilt. The moonli ght t hat pour ed t hr ough t he wi ndo w sli d off t he bl ade as he r ai sed
it. “I’ m sur e,” he sai d, and br ought t he dagger do wn. The bl ade shear ed t hr ough her fl esh as if it wer e paper, and
as her mout h opened i n a st artl ed O and bl ood soaked t he fr ont of her whit e shirt, he t hought, Dear God, not
again.
Waki ng up fr o m t he ni ght mar e was li ke cr ashi ng t hr ough a pl at e gl ass wi ndo w. The r azor ed shar ds of it see med
t o sli ce at Jace even as he pull ed fr ee and sat up, gaspi ng. He r oll ed off t he bed, i nsti ncti vel y wanti ng t o get a way,
and hit t he st one fl oor on hi s hands and knees. Col d air pour ed t hr ough t he open wi ndo w, maki ng hi m shi ver but
cl eari ng a way t he l ast, cli ngi ng t endril s of t he dr ea m.
He st ar ed do wn at hi s hands. They wer e cl ean of bl ood. The bed was a mess, t he sheet s and bl anket s scr e wed
i nt o a t angl ed ball fr o m hi s t ossi ng and t ur ni ng, but t he box cont ai ni ng hi s f at her’ s t hi ngs was still on t he ni ght st and,
wher e he’ d l eft it bef or e he went t o sl eep.
The first f e w ti mes he’ d had t he ni ght mar e, he’ d woken up and vo mit ed. No w he was car ef ul about not eati ng f or
hours bef or e he went t o sl eep, so i nst ead hi s body had it s r evenge on hi m by r acki ng hi m wit h spas ms of
si ckness and f ever. A spas m hit no w, and he curl ed i nt o a ball, gaspi ng and dry- heavi ng until it passed.
When it was over, he pr essed hi s f or ehead agai nst t he col d st one fl oor. Sweat was cooli ng on hi s body, hi s shirt
sti cki ng t o hi m, and he wonder ed, not i dl y, if event uall y t he dr ea ms woul d kill hi m. He had tri ed everyt hi ng t o st op
them—sleeping pills and potions, runes of sleep and runes of peace and healing. Nothing worked. The dreams
st ol e li ke poi son i nt o hi s mi nd, and t her e was not hi ng he coul d do t o shut t he m out.
Even duri ng hi s waki ng hours, he f ound it har d t o l ook at Cl ary. She had al ways been abl e t o see t hr ough hi m t he
way no one el se had, and he coul d onl y i magi ne what she woul d t hi nk if she kne w what he dr ea med. He r oll ed
ont o hi s si de and st ar ed at t he box on t he ni ght st and, moonli ght sparki ng off it. And he t hought of Val enti ne.
Valentine, who had tortured and imprisoned the only woman he’d ever loved, who had taught his son—both his
sons —t hat t o l ove so met hi ng i s t o destr oy it f or ever.
Hi s mi nd spun fr anti call y as he sai d t he wor ds t o hi mself, over and over. It had beco me a sort of chant f or hi m, and
li ke any chant, t he wor ds had st art ed t o l ose t heir i ndi vi dual meani ngs.
I’ m not li ke Val enti ne. I don’t want t o be li ke hi m. I won’t be li ke hi m. I won’t .
He sa w Sebasti an —Jonat han, r eall y —hi s sort- of- br ot her, gri nni ng at hi m t hr ough a t angl e of sil ver- whit e hair, hi s
black eyes shi ni ng wit h mercil ess gl ee. And he sa w hi s o wn knif e go i nt o Jonat han and pull fr ee, and Jonat han’ s
body tumbling down toward the river below, his blood mixing with the weeds and grass at the riverbank’s edge.
I a m not li ke Val enti ne.
He had not been sorry t o kill Jonat han. Gi ven t he chance, he woul d do it agai n.
I don’t want t o be li ke hi m.
Sur el y it wasn’t nor mal t o kill so meone —t o kill your o wn adopti ve br ot her —and f eel not hi ng about it at all.
I won’t be li ke hi m.
But hi s f at her had t aught hi m t hat t o kill wit hout mercy was a virt ue, and maybe you coul d never f or get what your
par ent s t aught you. No matt er ho w badl y you want ed t o.
I won’t be li ke hi m.
Maybe people could never really change.
I won’t .
4T
HE ART OF EI GHT LI MBS
HERE ARE ENSHRI NED THE L ONGI NG OF GREAT HEARTS AND NOBL E THI NGS THAT T O WER AB OVE
THE TI DE, THE MA GI C WORD THAT WI NGED WONDER STARTS, THE GARNERED WI SDOM THAT HAS
NEVER DI ED.
The wor ds wer e engr aved over t he fr ont doors of t he Br ookl yn Publi c Li br ary at Gr and Ar my Pl aza. Si mon was
sitti ng on t he fr ont st eps, l ooki ng up at t he f acade. I nscri pti ons glitt er ed agai nst t he st one i n dull gilt, each wor d
fl ashi ng i nt o mo ment ary lif e when caught by t he headli ght s of passi ng cars.
The li br ary had al ways been one of hi s f avorit e pl aces when he was a ki d. Ther e was a separ at e chil dr en’ s
entr ance ar ound t he si de, and he had met Cl ary t her e every Sat ur day f or years. They woul d pi ck up a st ack of
books and head f or t he Bot ani cal Gar den next door, wher e t hey coul d r ead f or hours, spr a wl ed i n t he gr ass, t he
sound of tr affi c a const ant dull t hr u mmi ng i n t he di st ance.
Ho w he had ended up her e t oni ght, he wasn’t quit e sur e. He had gott en a way fr o m hi s house as f ast as he coul d,
onl y t o r eali ze he had no wher e t o go. He coul dn’t f ace goi ng t o Cl ary’ s —she’ d be horrifi ed at what he’ d done, and
woul d want hi m t o go back t o fi x it. Eri c and t he ot her guys woul dn’t underst and. Jace di dn’t li ke hi m, and besi des,
he coul dn’t go i nt o t he I nstit ut e. It was a church, and t he r eason t he Nephili m li ved t her e i n t he first pl ace was
pr eci sel y t o keep cr eat ur es li ke hi m out. Event uall y he had r eali zed who it was he coul d call, but t he t hought had
been unpl easant enough t hat it had t aken hi m a whil e t o scr e w up t he nerve t o act uall y do it.
He hear d t he mot orcycl e bef or e he sa w it, t he l oud r oar of t he engi ne cutti ng t hr ough t he sounds of li ght tr affi c on
Grand Army Plaza. The cycle careened across the intersection and up onto the pavement, then reared back and
shot up the steps. Simon moved aside as it landed lightly beside him and Raphael released the handlebars.
The mot orcycl e went i nst antl y qui et. Va mp mot orcycl es wer e po wer ed by de moni c spirit s and r esponded li ke pet s
t o t he wi shes of t heir o wners. Si mon f ound t he m cr eepy.
“You wanted to see me, Daylighter?” Raphael, as elegant as always in a black jacket and expensive-looking
j eans, di s mount ed and l eaned hi s mot orcycl e agai nst t he li br ary r aili ng. “ Thi s had bett er be good,” he added. “It i s
not f or not hi ng t hat I co me all t he way t o Br ookl yn. Raphael Santi ago does not bel ong i n an out er bor ough.”
“ Oh, good. You’r e st arti ng t o t al k about yourself i n t he third person. That’s not a sign of impending megalomania or
anything.”
Raphael shr ugged. “ You can eit her t ell me what you want ed t o t ell me, or I will l eave. It i s up t o you.” He l ooked at
hi s wat ch. “ You have t hirt y seconds.”
“I t ol d my mot her I’ m a va mpir e.”
Raphael’ s eyebr o ws went up. They wer e very t hi n and very dark. I n l ess gener ous mo ment s Si mon so meti mes
wondered if he penciled them on. “And what happened?”
“ She call ed me a monst er and tri ed t o pr ay at me.” The me mory made t he bitt er t ast e of ol d bl ood ri se i n t he back
of Si mon’ s t hr oat.
“And then?”
“ And t hen I’ m not sur e what happened. I st art ed t al ki ng t o her i n t hi s r eall y weir d, soot hi ng voi ce, t elli ng her not hi ng
had happened and it was all a dream.”
“And she believed you.”
“She believed me,” Simon said reluctantly.
“ Of course she di d,” sai d Raphael. “ Because you ar e a va mpir e. It i s a po wer we have. Thee ncanto. The
f asci nati on. The po wer of persuasi on, you woul d call it. You can convi nce mundane hu mans of al most anyt hi ng, if
you l ear n ho w t o use t he abilit y pr operl y.”
“ But I di dn’t want t o use it on her. She’ s my mot her. Is t her e so me way t o t ake it off her —so me way t o fi x it ?”
“ Fi x it so she hat es you agai n? So she t hi nks you ar e a monst er ? That i s a very odd defi niti on of fi xi ng so met hi ng.”
“I don’t car e,” Si mon sai d. “Is t her e a way?”
“ No,” Raphael sai d cheerf ull y. “ Ther e i s not. You woul d kno w all t hi s, of course, if you di d not di sdai n your o wn ki nd
so much.”
“ That’ s ri ght. Act li ke I rejected you . It’ s not li ke you tri ed t o kill me or anyt hi ng.”
Raphael shrugged. “That was politics. Not personal.” He leaned back against the railing and crossed his arms
over hi s chest. He was weari ng bl ack mot orcycl e gl oves. Si mon had t o ad mit he l ooked pr ett y cool. “ Pl ease t ell
me you di d not bri ng me out her e so you coul d t ell me a very bori ng st ory about your si st er.”
“ My mot her,” Si mon corr ect ed.
Raphael fli pped a di s mi ssi ve hand. “ What ever. So me f e mal e i n your lif e has r ej ect ed you. It will not be t he l ast
ti me, I can t ell you t hat. Why ar e you bot heri ng me about it ?”
“I want ed t o kno w if I coul d co me and st ay at t he Du mont,” Si mon sai d, getti ng t he wor ds out very f ast so t hat he
couldn’t back out halfway. He could barely believe he was asking. His memories of the vampire hotel were
me mori es of bl ood and t err or and pai n. But it was a pl ace t o go, a pl ace t o st ay wher e no one woul d l ook f or hi m,
and so he woul d not have t o go ho me. He was a va mpir e. It was st upi d t o be afr ai d of a hot el f ull of ot her
va mpir es. “I haven’t got any wher e el se t o go.”
Raphael’ s eyes glitt er ed. “ Aha,” he sai d, wit h a soft tri u mph Si mon di d not parti cul arl y li ke. “ No w you want
so met hi ng fr o m me.”
“I suppose so. Alt hough it’ s cr eepy t hat you’r e so excit ed about t hat, Raphael.”
Raphael snort ed. “If you co me t o st ay at t he Du mont, you will not addr ess me as Raphael, but as Mast er, Sir e, or
Great Leader.”
Simon braced himself. “What about Camille?”
Raphael started. “What do you mean?”
“ You al ways t ol d me you wer en’t r eall y t he head of t he va mpir es,” Si mon sai d bl andl y. “ Then, i n I dri s, you t ol d me it
was so meone na med Ca mill e. You sai d she hadn’t co me back t o Ne w York yet. But I assu me, when she does,
she’ll be t he mast er, or what ever ?”
Raphael’ s gaze darkened. “I do not t hi nk I li ke your li ne of questi oni ng, Dayli ght er.”
“I have a ri ght t o kno w t hi ngs.”
“ No,” sai d Raphael. “ You don’t. You co me t o me, aski ng if you can st ay i n my hot el because you have no wher e
el se t o go. Not because you wi sh t o be wit h ot hers of your ki nd. You shun us.”
“ Whi ch, as I alr eady poi nt ed out, has t o do wit h t hat ti me you tri ed t o kill me.”
“ The Du mont i s not a half way house f or r el uct ant va mpir es,” Raphael went on. “ You li ve a mong hu mans, you wal k
i n dayli ght, you pl ay i n your st upi d band —yes, don’t t hi nk I don’t kno w about t hat. I n every way you do not accept
what you r eall y ar e. And as l ong as t hat i s tr ue, you ar e not wel co me at t he Du mont.”
Si mon t hought of Ca mill e sayi ng, The mo ment hi s f oll o wers see t hat you ar e wit h me, t hey will l eave hi m and co me
t o me. I beli eve t hey ar e l oyal t o me beneat h t heir f ear of hi m. Once t hey see us t oget her, t hat f ear will be gone,
and t hey will co me t o our si de. “ You kno w,” he sai d, “I’ ve had ot her off ers.”
Raphael l ooked at hi m as if he wer e i nsane. “ Off ers of what ?”
“Just . . . off ers,” Si mon sai d f eebl y.
“ You ar e t erri bl e at t hi s politi cs busi ness, Si mon Le wi s. I suggest you do not att e mpt it agai n.”
“ Fi ne,” Si mon sai d. “I ca me her e t o t ell you so met hi ng, but no w I’ m not goi ng t o.”
“I suppose you ar e al so goi ng t o t hr o w a way t he birt hday pr esent you got me,” Raphael sai d. “It i s all very tr agi c.”
He r etri eved hi s mot orcycl e and s wung a l eg over it as t he engi ne r evved t o lif e. Red sparks fl e w fr o m t he exhaust
pi pe. “If you bot her me agai n, Dayli ght er, it had bett er be f or a good r eason. Or I will not be f or gi vi ng.”
And wit h t hat, t he mot orcycl e sur ged f or war d and up war d. Si mon cr aned hi s head back t o wat ch as Raphael, li ke
t he angel he was na med f or, soar ed i nt o t he sky tr aili ng fir e.
Cl ary sat wit h her sket chpad on her knees and gna wed t he end of her pencil t houghtf ull y. She had dr a wn Jace
dozens of ti mes —she guessed it was her versi on of most girl s’ writi ng about t heir boyfri ends i n t heir di ari es —but
she never see med t o be abl e t o get hi m exactl y ri ght. For one t hi ng, it was al most i mpossi bl e t o get hi m t o st and
still, so she’ d t hought t hat no w, whil e he was asl eep, woul d be perf ect —but it still wasn’t co mi ng out quit e t he way
she want ed. It j ust di dn’t l ook li khei m.
She tossed the sketchpad onto the blanket with a sigh of exasperation and pulled her knees up, looking down at
hi m. She hadn’t expect ed hi m t o f all asl eep. They’ d co me t o Centr al Park t o eat l unch and tr ai n out si de whil e t he
weather was still good. They’d doonene of t hose t hi ngs. Take- out cont ai ners fr o m Taki’ s wer e scatt er ed i n t he
grass beside the blanket. Jace hadn’t eaten much, picking through his carton of sesame noodles in a desultory
f ashi on bef or e t ossi ng it asi de and fli ngi ng hi mself do wn ont o t he bl anket, st ari ng up at t he sky. Cl ary had sat
l ooki ng do wn at hi m, at t he way t he cl ouds r efl ect ed i n hi s cl ear eyes, t he outli ne of muscl es i n t he ar ms cr ossed
behi nd hi s head, t he perf ect stri p of ski n r eveal ed bet ween t he he m of hi s T-shirt and t he belt of hi s j eans. She had
want ed t o r each out and sli de her hand al ong hi s har d fl at st o mach; i nst ead she’ d avert ed her eyes, r u mmagi ng
f or her sket chpad. When she’ d t ur ned back, pencil i n hand, hi s eyes wer e cl osed and hi s br eat hi ng was soft and
even.
She was no w t hr ee dr aft s i nt o her ill ustr ati on, and no cl oser t o a dr a wi ng t hat sati sfi ed her. Looki ng at hi m no w,
she wonder ed why on eart h she coul dn’t dr a w hi m. The li ght was perf ect, soft br onze Oct ober li ght t hat l ai d a
sheen of paler gold over his already golden hair and skin. His closed lids were fringed with gold a shade darker
t han hi s hair. One of hi s hands was dr aped l oosel y over hi s chest, t he ot her open at hi s si de. Hi s f ace was r el axed
and vul ner abl e i n sl eep, soft er and l ess angul ar t han when he was a wake. Per haps t hat was t he pr obl e m. He was
so r ar el y r el axed and vul ner abl e, it was har d t o capt ur e t he li nes of hi m when he was. It f elt . . . unf a mili ar.
At that precise moment he moved. He had begun making little gasping sounds in his sleep, his eyes darting back
and f ort h behi nd hi s shut eyeli ds. Hi s hand j erked, ti ght ened agai nst hi s chest, and he sat up, so suddenl y t hat he
nearl y knocked Cl ary over. Hi s eyes fl e w open. For a mo ment he l ooked si mpl y dazed; he had gone st artli ngl y
pale.
“Jace?” Clary couldn’t hide her surprise.
Hi s eyes f ocused on her; a mo ment l at er he had dr a wn her t o war d hi m wit h none of hi s cust o mary gentl eness; he
pull ed her ont o hi s l ap and ki ssed her fi ercel y, hi s hands wi ndi ng i nt o her hair. She coul d f eel t he ha mmeri ng of hi s
heart wit h hers, and she f elt her cheeks fl ush. They wer e i n a publi c park, she t hought, and peopl e wer e pr obabl y
staring.
“ Whoa,” he sai d, dr a wi ng back, hi s li ps curvi ng i nt o a s mil e. “ Sorry. You pr obabl y wer en’t expecti ng t hat.”
“It was a ni ce sur pri se.” Her voi ce sounded l o w and t hr oat y t o her o wn ears. “What were you dreaming about?”
“ You.” He t wi st ed a l ock of her hair ar ound hi s fi nger. “I al ways dr ea m about you.”
Still on hi s l ap, her l egs str addli ng hi s, Cl ary sai d, “ Oh, yeah? Because I t hought you wer e havi ng a ni ght mar e.”
He ti pped hi s head back t o l ook at her. “ So meti mes I dr ea m you’r e gone,” he sai d. “I keep wonderi ng when you’ll
fi gur e out ho w much bett er you coul d do and l eave me.”
She t ouched hi s f ace wit h her fi ngerti ps, deli cat el y r unni ng t he m over t he pl anes of hi s cheekbones, do wn t o t he
curve of hi s mout h. Jace never sai d t hi ngs li ke t hat t o anyone el se but her. Al ec and Isabell e kne w, fr o m li vi ng wit h
him and loving him, that underneath the protective armor of humor and pretended arrogance, the ragged shards of
me mory and chil dhood still t or e at hi m. But she was t he onl y one he sai d t he wor ds out l oud t o. She shook her
head; her hair f ell f or war d acr oss her f or ehead, and she pushed it a way i mpati entl y. “I wi sh I coul d say t hi ngs t he
way you do,” she sai d. “ Everyt hi ng you say, t he wor ds you choose, t hey’r e so perf ect. You al ways fi nd t he ri ght
quot e, or t he ri ght t hi ng t o say t o make me beli eve you l ove me. If I can’t convi nce you t hat I’ll never l eave you —”
He caught her hand i n hi s. “Just say it agai n.”
“I’ll never leave you,” she said.
“ No matt er what happens, what I do?”
“I’ d never gi ve up on you,” she sai d. “ Never. What I f eel about you —” She st u mbl ed over t he wor ds. “It’ s t he most
i mport ant t hi ng I’ ve ever f elt.”
Da mmit, she t hought. That sounded co mpl et el y st upi d. But Jace di dn’t see m t o t hi nk so; he s mil ed wi stf ull y and
sai d, “‘ L’ a mor che move il sol e e l’ altr e st ell e.’”
“Is t hat Lati n?”
“It ali an,” he sai d. “ Dant e.”
She r an her fi ngerti ps over hi s li ps, and he shi ver ed. “I don’t speak It ali an,” she sai d, very softl y.
“It means,” he sai d, “t hat l ove i s t he most po werf ul f orce i n t he worl d. That l ove can do anyt hi ng.”
She dr e w her hand out of hi s, a war e as she di d t hat he was wat chi ng her t hr ough half-li dded eyes. She l ocked
bot h hands ar ound t he back of hi s neck, l eaned f or war d, and t ouched hi s li ps wit h hers —not a ki ss t hi s ti me, j ust a
br ush of li ps agai nst each ot her. It was enough; she f elt hi s pul se speed up, and he l eaned f or war d, tryi ng t o
capt ur e her mout h wit h hi s, but she shook her head, shaki ng her hair ar ound t he m li ke a curt ai n t hat woul d hi de
t he m fr o m t he eyes of everyone el se i n t he park. “If you’r e tir ed, we coul d go back t o t he I nstit ut e,” she sai d i n a
half whi sper. “ Take a nap. We haven’t sl ept t oget her i n t he sa me bed si nce —si nce I dri s.”
Their gazes l ocked, and she kne w he was r e me mberi ng t he sa me t hi ng she was. The pal e li ght filt eri ng i n t hr ough
t he wi ndo w of A mati s’ s s mall spar e bedr oo m, t he desper ati on i n hi s voi ce. I j ust want t o li e do wn wit h you and
wake up wit h you, j ust once, j ust once ever i n my lif e. That whol e ni ght, l yi ng si de by si de, onl y t heir hands t ouchi ng.
They had t ouched much mor e si nce t hat ni ght, but had never spent t he ni ght t oget her. He kne w she was off eri ng
hi m mor e t han a nap i n one of t he I nstit ut e’ s unused bedr oo ms, t oo. She was sur e he coul d see it i n her eyes —
even if she herself wasn’t exactl y sur e ho w much she was off eri ng. But it di dn’t matt er. Jace woul d never ask her
f or anyt hi ng she di dn’t want t o gi ve.
“I want t o.” The heat she sa w i n hi s eyes, t he r agged edge t o hi s voi ce, t ol d her he wasn’t l yi ng. “ But —we can’t.”
He t ook her wri st s fir ml y, and dr e w t he m do wn, hol di ng t heir hands bet ween t he m, maki ng a barri er.
Clary’s eyes widened. “Why not?”
He t ook a deep br eat h. “ We ca me her e t o tr ai n, and we shoul d tr ai n. If we j ust spend all t he ti me we’r e supposed
t o be tr ai ni ng maki ng out i nst ead, t hey’ll quit l etti ng me hel p tr ai n you at all.”
“ Ar en’t t hey supposed t o be hiri ng so meone el se t o tr ai n me f ull-ti me anyway?”
“ Yes,” he sai d, getti ng up and pulli ng her t o her f eet al ong wit h hi m, “ and I’ m worri ed t hat if you get i nt o t he habit of
maki ng out wit h your i nstr uct ors, you’ll wi nd up maki ng out wit h hi m, t oo.”
“ Don’t be sexi st. They coul d fi nd me a f e mal e i nstr uct or.”
“I n t hat case you have my per mi ssi on t o make out wit h her, as l ong as I can wat ch.”
“ Ni ce.” Cl ary gri nned, bendi ng do wn t o f ol d up t he bl anket t hey’ d br ought t o sit on. “ You’r e j ust worri ed t hey’ll hir e a
mal e i nstr uct or and he’ll be hott er t han you.”
Jace’ s eyebr o ws went up. “ Hott er t han me ?”
“It coul d happen,” Cl ary sai d. “ You kno w, t heor eti call y.”
“Theoretically the planet could suddenly crack in half, leaving me on one side and you on the other side, forever
and tr agi call y part ed, but I’ m not worri ed about t hat, eit her. So me t hi ngs,” Jace sai d, wit h hi s cust o mary cr ooked
s mil e, “ ar e j ust t oo unli kel y t o d well upon.”
He hel d out hi s hand; she t ook it, and t oget her t hey cr ossed t he meado w, headi ng f or a copse of tr ees at t he edge
of t he East Meado w t hat onl y Shado whunt ers see med t o kno w about. Cl ary suspect ed it was gl a mour ed, si nce
she and Jace tr ai ned t her e f airl y oft en and no one had ever i nt err upt ed t he m t her e except Isabell e or Maryse.
Centr al Park i n aut u mn was a ri ot of col or. The tr ees li ni ng t he meado w had put on t heir bri ght est col ors and
circl ed t he gr een i n bl azi ng gol d, r ed, copper, and r usset or ange. It was a beautif ul day t o t ake a r o manti c wal k
t hr ough t he park and ki ss on one of t he st one bri dges. But t hat wasn’t goi ng t o happen. Obvi ousl y, as f ar as Jace
was concer ned, t he park was an out si de ext ensi on of t he I nstit ut e’ s tr ai ni ng r oo m, and t hey wer e t her e t o r un Cl ary
through various exercises involving terrain navigation, escape and evasion techniques, and killing things with her
bare hands.
Nor mall y she woul d have been excit ed t o l ear n ho w t o kill t hi ngs wit h her bar e hands. But t her e was still so met hi ng
bot heri ng her about Jace. She coul dn’t ri d herself of t he naggi ng f eeli ng t hat so met hi ng was seri ousl y wr ong. If
onl y t her e wer e a r une, she t hought, t hat woul d make hi m t ell her what he was r eall y f eeli ng. But she woul d never
cr eat e a r une li ke t hat, she r e mi nded herself hastil y. It woul d be unet hi cal t o use her po wer t o try t o contr ol
someone else. And besides, since she’d created the binding rune in Idris, her power had lain seemingly dormant.
She had f elt no ur ge t o dr a w ol d r unes, nor had she had any vi si ons of ne w r unes t o cr eat e. Maryse had t ol d her
t hat t hey woul d be tryi ng t o bri ng i n a speci ali st i n r unes t o t ut or her, once tr ai ni ng r eall y got under way, but so f ar
t hat hadn’t mat eri ali zed. Not t hat she mi nded, r eall y. She had t o ad mit she wasn’t sur e she woul d be entir el y sorry
if her power had vanished forever.
“There are going to be times when you encounter a demon and you don’t have a fighting weapon,” Jace was
saying as they passed under a row of trees laden with low-hanging leaves whose colors ran the gamut from green
t o brilli ant gol d. “ At t hat poi nt, you can’t pani c. First, you have t o r e me mber t hat anyt hi ng can be a weapon. A tr ee
br anch, a handf ul of coi ns —t hey make gr eat br ass knuckl es —a shoe, anyt hi ng. And second, keep i n mi nd t hat
you ar e a weapon. I n t heory, when you’r e done wit h tr ai ni ng, you shoul d be abl e t o ki ck a hol e i n a wall or knock
out a moose wit h a si ngl e punch.”
“I would never hit a moose,” said Clary. “They’re endangered.”
Jace s mil ed sli ghtl y, and s wung t o f ace her. They had r eached t he copse, a s mall, cl ear ed ar ea i n t he cent er of a
st and of tr ees. Ther e wer e r unes carved i nt o t he tr unks of t he tr ees t hat surr ounded t he m, marki ng it as a
Shadowhunter place.
“ Ther e’ s an anci ent fi ghti ng st yl e call ed Muay Thai,” he sai d. “ Have you hear d of it ?”
She shook her head. The sun was bri ght and st eady, and she was al most t oo hot i n her tr ack pant s and war m- up
j acket. Jace t ook off hi s j acket and t ur ned back t o her, fl exi ng hi s sli m pi ani st’ s hands. Hi s eyes wer e i nt ensel y
gol d i n t he aut u mn li ght. Marks f or speed, agilit y, and str engt h tr ail ed li ke a patt er n of vi nes fr o m hi s wri st s up and
over the swell of each bicep, disappearing under the sleeves of his T-shirt. She wondered why he’d bothered
Marki ng hi mself up as if she wer e a f oe t o be r eckoned wit h.
“I hear d a r u mor t hat t he ne w i nstr uct or we’r e getti ng next week i s a mast er of Muay Thai,” he sai d. “ And sa mbo,
l et hwei, t o moi, kr av maga, j ujit su, and anot her one t hat fr ankl y I don’t r e me mber t he na me of, but it i nvol ves killi ng
peopl e wit h s mall sti cks or so met hi ng. My poi nt i s, he or she i sn’t goi ng t o be used t o worki ng wit h so meone your
age who’ s as i nexperi enced as you ar e, so if we t each you a f e w of t he basi cs, I’ m hopi ng it’ll make t he m f eel a
littl e mor e gener ousl y t o war d you.” He r eached out t o put hi s hands on her hi ps. “ No w t ur n and f ace me.”
Cl ary di d as i nstr uct ed. Faci ng each ot her li ke t hi s, her head ca me t o t he bott o m of hi s chi n. She r est ed her hands
li ghtl y on hi s bi ceps.
“ Muay Thai i s call ed ‘t he art of ei ght li mbs.’ That’ s because you use not j ust your fi st s and f eet as stri ke poi nt s, but
al so your knees and el bo ws. First you want t o pull your opponent i n, t hen pu mmel hi m wit h every one of your stri ke
poi nt s until he or she coll apses.”
“And that works on demons?” Clary raised her eyebrows.
“ The s mall er ones.” Jace moved cl oser t o her. “ Okay. Reach your hand ar ound and gri p t he back of my neck.”
It was j ust possi bl e t o do as he i nstr uct ed wit hout goi ng up on her t oes. Not f or t he first ti me, Cl ary cursed t he f act
t hat she was so short.
“Now you raise your other hand and do the same thing again, so your hands are looped around the back of my
neck.”
She di d it. The back of hi s neck was war m fr o m t he sun, and hi s soft hair ti ckl ed her fi ngers. Their bodi es wer e
pressed up against each other; she could feel the ring she wore on a chain around her neck pressed between
them like a pebble pressed between two palms.
“I n a r eal fi ght you’ d do t hat move much f ast er,” he sai d. Unl ess she was i magi ni ng it, hi s voi ce was a littl e
unst eady. “ No w t hat gri p on me gi ves you l ever age. You’r e goi ng t o use t hat l ever age t o pull yourself f or war d and
add momentum to your upward knee kicks—”
“ My, my,” sai d a cool, a mused voi ce. “ Onl y si x weeks, and alr eady at each ot her’ s t hr oat s? Ho w s wiftl y mort al l ove
does fade.”
Rel easi ng her hol d on Jace, Cl ary whirl ed, t hough she alr eady kne w who it was. The Queen of t he Seeli e Court
st ood i n t he shado ws bet ween t wo tr ees. If Cl ary had not kno wn she was t her e, she wonder ed if she woul d have
seen her, even wit h t he Si ght. The Queen wor e a go wn as gr een as gr ass, and her hair, f alli ng ar ound her
shoul ders, was t he col or of a t ur ni ng l eaf. She was as beautif ul and a wf ul as a dyi ng season. Cl ary had never
tr ust ed her.
“ What ar e you doi ng her e?” It was Jace, hi s eyes narr o w. “ Thi s i s a Shado whunt er pl ace.”
“ And I have ne ws of i nt er est t o Shado whunt ers.” As t he Queen st epped gr acef ull y f or war d, t he sun l anced do wn
t hr ough t he tr ees and sparked off t he circl et of gol den berri es she wor e ar ound her head. Cl ary so meti mes
wonder ed if t he Queen pl anned t hese dr a mati c entr ances, and if so, ho w. “ Ther e has been anot her deat h.”
“ What sort of deat h?”
“ Anot her one of you. Dead Nephili m.” Ther e was a cert ai n r eli sh t o t he way t he Queen sai d it. “ The body was
f ound t hi s da wn beneat h Oak Bri dge. As you kno w, t he park i s my do mai n. A hu man killi ng i s not of concer n t o
me, but t he deat h di d not see m t o be one of mundane ori gi ns. The body was br ought t o t he Court t o be exa mi ned
by my physicians. They pronounced the dead mortal one of yours.”
Clary looked quickly at Jace, remembering the news of the dead Shadowhunter two days before. She could tell
Jace was t hi nki ng t he sa me t hi ng; he had pal ed. “ Wher e i s t he body?” he asked.
“ Ar e you concer ned about my hospit alit y? He bi des i n my court, and I assur e you t hat we aff or d hi s body all t he
r espect we woul d gi ve a li vi ng Shado whunt er. No w t hat one of my o wn has a pl ace on t he Council besi de you and
yours, you can har dl y doubt our good f ait h.”
“ As al ways, good f ait h and my Lady go hand i n hand.” The sarcas m i n Jace’ s voi ce was cl ear, but t he Queen j ust
s mil ed. She li ked Jace, Cl ary had al ways t hought, i n t hat way t hat f aeri es li ked pr ett y t hi ngs because t hey wer e
pr ett y. She di d not t hi nk t he Queen li ked her, and t he f eeli ng was mut ual. “ And why ar e you gi vi ng t hi s message t o
us, i nst ead of t o Maryse? Cust o m woul d i ndi cat e —”
“ Oh, cust o m.” The Queen waved a way conventi on wit h a fli p of her hand. “ You wer e her e. It see med expedi ent.”
Jace gave her another narrow look and flipped his cell phone open. He gestured at Clary to stay where she was,
and wal ked a littl e ways a way. She coul d hear hi m sayi ng, “ Maryse?” as t he phone was ans wer ed, and t hen hi s
voice was swallowed up by shouts from the playing fields nearby.
Wit h a f eeli ng of col d dr ead, she l ooked back at t he Queen. She had not seen t he Lady of t he Seeli e Court si nce
her l ast ni ght i n I dri s, and t hen Cl ary had not exactl y been polit e t o her. She doubt ed t he Queen had f or gott en or
f or gi ven her f or t hat. Woul d you tr ul y r ef use a f avor fr o m t he Queen of t he Seeli e Court ?
“I hear d Meli or n got a seat on t he Council,” Cl ary sai d no w. “ You must be pl eased about t hat.”
“I ndeed.” The Queen l ooked at her wit h a muse ment. “I a m suffi ci entl y deli ght ed.”
“ So,” Cl ary sai d. “ No har d f eeli ngs, t hen?”
The Queen’ s s mil e t ur ned i cy ar ound t he edges, li ke fr ost ri mi ng t he si des of a pond. “I suppose you r ef er t o my
off er, whi ch you so r udel y decli ned,” she sai d. “ As you kno w, my obj ecti ve was acco mpli shed r egar dl ess; t he l oss
t her e, I i magi ne most woul d agr ee, was yours.”
“I di dn’t want your deal.” Cl ary tri ed t o keep t he shar pness fr o m her voi ce, and f ail ed. “ Peopl e can’t do what you
want all t he ti me, you kno w.”
“ Do not pr esu me t o l ect ur e me, chil d.” The Queen’ s eyes f oll o wed Jace, who was paci ng at t he edge of t he tr ees,
phone i n hand. “ He i s beautif ul,” she sai d. “I can see why you l ove hi m. But di d you ever wonder what dr a ws hi m t o
you?”
Cl ary sai d not hi ng t o t hat; t her e see med not hi ng t o say.
“ The bl ood of Heaven bi nds you,” sai d t he Queen. “ Bl ood call s t o bl ood, under t he ski n. But l ove and bl ood ar e not
t he sa me.”
“Riddles,” Clary said angrily. “Do you even mean anyt hi ng when you t al k li ke t hat ?”
“ He i s bound t o you,” sai d t he Queen. “ But does he l ove you?”
Cl ary f elt her hands t wit ch. She l onged t o try out on t he Queen so me of t he ne w fi ghti ng moves she’ d l ear ned, but
she kne w ho w unwi se t hat woul d be. “ Yes, he does.”
“And does he want you? For love and desire are not always as one.”
“ That’ s none of your busi ness,” Cl ary sai d shortl y, but she coul d see t hat t he Queen’ s eyes on her wer e as shar p
as pins.
“ You want hi m li ke you have never want ed anyt hi ng el se. But does he f eel t he sa me?” The Queen’ s soft voi ce was
inexorable. “He could have anything or anyone he pleases. Do you wonder why he chose you? Do you wonder if
he regrets it? Has he changed toward you?”
Cl ary f elt t ears sti ng t he backs of her eyes. “ No, he hasn’t.” But she t hought of hi s f ace i n t he el evat or t hat ni ght,
and t he way he had t ol d her t o go ho me when she’ d off er ed t o st ay.
“ You t ol d me t hat you di d not wi sh t o make a co mpact wit h me, f or t her e was not hi ng I coul d gi ve you. You sai d
t her e was not hi ng i n t he worl d you want ed.” The Queen’ s eyes glitt er ed. “ When you i magi ne your lif e wit hout hi m,
do you still f eel t he sa me?”
Why ar e you doi ng t hi s t o me? Cl ary want ed t o scr ea m, but she sai d not hi ng, f or t he Faeri e Queen gl anced past
her, and s mil ed, sayi ng, “ Wi pe your t ears, f or he r et ur ns. It will do you no good f or hi m t o see you cry.”
Cl ary r ubbed hastil y at her eyes wit h t he back of her hand, and t ur ned; Jace was wal ki ng t o war d t he m, fr o wni ng.
“ Maryse i s on her way t o t he Court,” he sai d. “ Wher e di d t he Queen go?”
Cl ary l ooked at hi m, sur pri sed. “ She’ s ri ght her e,” she began, t ur ni ng —and br oke off. Jace was ri ght. The Queen
was gone, onl y a s wirl of l eaves at Cl ary’ s f eet t o sho w wher e she had st ood.
Si mon, hi s j acket wadded up under hi s head, was l yi ng on hi s back, st ari ng up at t he hol e-fill ed ceili ng of Eri c’ s
gar age wit h a sense of gri m f at alit y. Hi s duff el bag was at hi s f eet, hi s phone pr essed agai nst hi s ear. Ri ght no w
t he f a mili arit y of Cl ary’ s voi ce on t he ot her end of it was t he onl y t hi ng keepi ng hi m fr o m f alli ng apart co mpl et el y.
“ Si mon, I’ m so sorry.” He coul d t ell she was so me wher e i n t he cit y. The l oud bl ar e of tr affi c sounded behi nd her,
muffling her voi ce. “ Ar e you seri ousl y i n Eri c’ s garage? Does he know you’re there?”
“ No,” Si mon sai d. “ No one’ s ho me at t he mo ment, and I’ ve got t he gar age key. It see med li ke a pl ace t o go.
Where are you, anyway?”
“I n t he cit y.” To Br ookl ynit es, Manhatt an was al ways “t he cit y.” No ot her metr opoli s exi st ed. “I was tr ai ni ng wit h
Jace, but t hen he had t o go back t o t he I nstit ut e f or so me ki nd of Cl ave busi ness. I’ m headed back t o Luke’ s no w.”
A car honked l oudl y i n t he backgr ound. “ Look, do you want t o st ay wit h us? You coul d sl eep on Luke’ s couch.”
Si mon hesit at ed. He had good me mori es of Luke’ s. I n all t he years he’ d kno wn Cl ary, Luke had li ved i n t he sa me
r att y but pl easant ol d r o w house over t he bookst or e. Cl ary had a key, and she and Si mon had whil ed a way a l ot of
pl easant hours t her e, r eadi ng books t hey’ d “ borr o wed” fr o m t he st or e do wnst airs, or wat chi ng ol d movi es on t he
TV.
Thi ngs wer e diff er ent no w, t hough.
“ Maybe my mo m coul d t al k t o your mo m,” Cl ary sai d, soundi ng worri ed by hi s sil ence. “ Make her underst and.”
“ Make her underst and t hat I’ m a va mpir e? Cl ary, I t hi nk she does underst and t hat, i n a weir d ki nd of way. That
doesn’t mean she’ s goi ng t o accept it or ever be okay wit h it.”
“ Well, you can’t j ust keep maki ng her f or get it, eit her, Si mon,” Cl ary sai d. “It’ s not goi ng t o work f or ever.”
“ Why not ?” He kne w he was bei ng unr easonabl e, but l yi ng on t he har d fl oor, surr ounded by t he s mell of gasoli ne
and t he whi sper of spi ders spi nni ng t heir webs i n t he cor ners of t he gar age, f eeli ng l oneli er t han he ever had,
reasonable seemed very far away.
“ Because t hen your whol e r el ati onshi p wit h her i s a li e. You can’t never go ho me —”
“ So what ?” Si mon i nt err upt ed harshl y. “ That’ s part of t he curse, i sn’t it ? ‘ A f ugiti ve and a wander er shalt t hou be.’”
Despit e t he tr affi c noi ses and t he sound of chatt er i n t he backgr ound, he coul d hear Cl ary’ s sudden i ndr a wn
breath.
“ You t hi nk I shoul d t ell her about t hat, t oo?” he sai d. “ Ho w you put t he Mark of Cai n on me? Ho w I’ m basi call y a
wal ki ng curse? You t hi nk she’ s goi ng t o watnth at in her house?”
The background sounds quieted; Clary must have ducked into a doorway. He could hear her struggling to hold
back t ears as she sai d, “ Si mon, I’ m so sorry. Yoku now I’ m sorry —”
“It’ s not your f ault.” He suddenl y f elt bone-tir ed. That’ s ri ght, t errif y your mot her and t hen make your best fri end cry.
A banner day f or you, Si mon. “ Look, obvi ousl y I shoul dn’t be ar ound peopl e ri ght no w. I’ m j ust goi ng t o st ay her e,
and I’ll cr ash wit h Eri c when he get s ho me.”
She made a snuffli ng l aughi ng-t hr ough-t ears sound. “ What, doesn’t Eri c count as peopl e?”
“I’ll get back t o you on t hat l at er,” he sai d, and hesit at ed. “I’ll call you t o morr o w, all ri ght ?”
“You’ll see me t o morr o w. You pr o mi sed t o co me t o t hat dr ess fitti ng wit h me, r e me mber ?”
“ Wo w,” he sai d. “I must r eall y l ove you.”
“I kno w,” she sai d. “I l ove you, t oo.”
Si mon cli cked off t he phone and l ay back, hol di ng it agai nst hi s chest. It was f unny, he t hought. No w he coul d say “I
l ove you” t o Cl ary, when f or years he’ d str uggl ed t o say t hose wor ds and had not been abl e t o get t he m out of hi s
mout h. No w t hat he no l onger meant t he m t he sa me way, it was easy.
Sometimes he did wonder what would have happened if there had never been a Jace Wayland. If Clary had never
f ound out she was a Shado whunt er. But he pushed t he t hought a way —poi ntl ess, don’t go do wn t hat r oad. You
coul dn’t change t he past. You coul d onl y go f or war d. Not t hat he had any i dea what f or war d ent ail ed. He coul dn’t
st ay i n Eri c’ s gar age f or ever. Even i n hi s curr ent mood, he had t o ad mit it was a mi ser abl e pl ace t o st ay. He
wasn’t col d —he no l onger f elt eit her col d or heat i n any r eal way —but t he fl oor was har d, and he was havi ng
tr oubl e sl eepi ng. He wi shed he coul d dull hi s senses. The l oud noi se of tr affi c out si de was keepi ng hi m fr o m
r esti ng, as was t he unpl easant st ench of gasoli ne. But it was t he gna wi ng worry about what t o do next t hat was t he
worst.
He’ d t hr o wn a way most of hi s bl ood suppl y and st ashed t he r est i n hi s knapsack; he had about enough f or a f e w
mor e days, and t hen he’ d be i n tr oubl e. Eri c, wher ever he was, woul d cert ai nl y l et Si mon st ay i n t he house if he
want ed, but t hat mi ght r esult i n Eri c’ s par ent s calli ng Si mon’ s mo m. And si nce she t hought he was on a school
fi el d tri p, t hat woul d do hi m no good at all.
Days, he t hought. That was t he a mount of ti me he had. Bef or e he r an out of bl ood, bef or e hi s mot her st art ed t o
wonder where he was and called the school looking for him. Before she started to remember. He was a vampire
no w. He was supposed t o have et er nit y. But what he had was days.
He had been so car ef ul. Tri ed so har d f or what he t hought of as a nor mal lif e —school, fri ends, hi s o wn house, hi s
o wn bedr oo m. It had been str ai ned, but t hat was what lif e was. Other options seemed so bleak and lonely that they
di dn’t bear t hi nki ng about. And yet Ca mill e’ s voi ce r ang i n hi s head. What about i n t en years, when you ar e
supposed t o be t went y-si x? I n t went y years? Thirt y? Do you t hi nk no one will noti ce t hat as t hey age and change,
you do not ?
The sit uati on he had cr eat ed f or hi mself, had carved so car ef ull y i n t he shape of hi s ol d lif e, had never been
per manent, he t hought no w, wit h a si nki ng i n hi s chest. It never coul d have been. He’ d been cli ngi ng t o shado ws
and me mori es. He t hought agai n of Ca mill e, of her off er. It sounded bett er no w t han it had bef or e. An off er of a
co mmunit y, even if it wasn’t t he co mmunit y he want ed. He had onl y about t hr ee mor e days bef or e she’ d co me
l ooki ng f or hi s ans wer. And what woul d he t ell her when she di d? He’ d t hought he kne w, but no w he wasn’t so
sure.
A gri ndi ng noi se i nt err upt ed hi s r everi e. The gar age door was r at cheti ng up war d, bri ght li ght speari ng i nt o t he
dark i nt eri or of t he space. Si mon sat up, hi s whol e body suddenl y on t he al ert.
“ Eri c?”
“ Nah. It’ s me. Kyl e.”
“Kyle?” Simon said blankly, before he remembered—the guy they’d agreed to take on as a lead singer. Simon
al most fl opped back do wn ont o t he gr ound agai n. “ Oh. Ri ght. None of t he ot her guys ar e her e ri ght no w, so if you
wer e hopi ng t o pr acti ce . . .”
“It’ s cool. That’ s not why I ca me.” Kyl e st epped i nt o t he gar age, bli nki ng i n t he darkness, hi s hands i n t he back
pocket s of hi s j eans. “ You’r e what shi sna me, t he bassi st, ri ght ?”
Si mon got t o hi s f eet, br ushi ng gar age fl oor dust off hi s cl ot hes. “I’ m Si mon.”
Kyl e gl anced ar ound, a per pl exed f urr o w bet ween hi s br o ws. “I l eft my keys her e yest er day, I t hi nk. Been l ooki ng
f or t he m every wher e. Hey, t her e t hey ar e.” He ducked behi nd t he dr u m set and emerged a second later, rattling a
set of keys tri u mphantl y i n hi s hand. He l ooked much t he sa me as he had t he day bef or e. He had a bl ue T-shirt on
today under a leather jacket, and a gold saint’s medal sparkled around his neck. His dark hair was messier than
ever. “ So,” Kyl e sai d, l eani ng agai nst one of t he speakers. “ Wer e you, li ke, sl eepi ng her e? On t he fl oor ?”
Si mon nodded. “ Got t hr o wn out of my house.” It wasn’t pr eci sel y tr ue, but it was all he f elt li ke sayi ng.
Kyl e nodded sy mpat heti call y. “ Mo m f ound your weed st ash, huh? That sucks.”
“ No. No . . . weed st ash.” Si mon shr ugged. “ We had a diff er ence of opi ni on about my lif est yl e.”
“ So, she f ound out about your t wo girlfri ends?” Kyl e gri nned. He was good-l ooki ng, Si mon had t o ad mit, but unli ke
Jace, who seemed to know exactly how good-looking he was, Kyle looked like someone who probably hadn’t
brushed his hair in weeks. There was an open, friendly puppyishness about him that was appealing, though.
“ Yeah, Kirk t ol d me about it. Good f or you, man.”
Si mon shook hi s head. “It wasn’t t hat.”
Ther e was a short sil ence bet ween t he m. Then:
“I . . . don’t li ve at ho me eit her,” Kyl e sai d. “I l eft a coupl e of years ago.” He hugged hi s ar ms ar ound hi mself,
hangi ng hi s head do wn. Hi s voi ce was l o w. “I haven’t t al ked t o my par ent s si nce t hen. I mean, I’ m doi ng all ri ght on
my o wn but . . . I get it.”
“ Your t att oos,” Si mon sai d, t ouchi ng hi s o wn ar ms li ghtl y. “ What do t hey mean?”
Kyl e str et ched hi s ar ms out. “ Shaanti h shaanti h shaanti h,” he sai d. “ They’r e mantr as fr o m t he Upani shads.
Sanskrit. Pr ayers f or peace.”
Nor mall y Si mon woul d have t hought t hat getti ng yourself t att ooed i n Sanskrit was ki nd of pr et enti ous. But ri ght
no w, he di dn’t. “ Shal o m,” he sai d.
Kyl e bli nked at hi m. “ What ?”
“ Means peace,” sai d Si mon. “I n Hebr e w. I was j ust t hi nki ng t he wor ds sounded sort of ali ke.”
Kyl e gave hi m a l ong l ook. He see med t o be deli ber ati ng. Fi nall y he sai d, “ Thi s i s goi ng t o sound sort of cr azy —”
“ Oh, I don’t kno w. My defi niti on of cr azy has beco me pr ett y fl exi bl e i n t he past f e w mont hs.”
“ —but I have an apart ment. I n Al phabet Cit y. And my r oo mmat e j ust moved out. It’ s a t wo- bedr oo m, so you coul d
cr ash i n hi s space. Ther e’ s a bed i n t her e and everyt hi ng.”
Si mon hesit at ed. On t he one hand he di dn’t kno w Kyl e at all, and movi ng i nt o t he apart ment of a t ot al str anger
see med li ke a st upi d move of epi c pr oporti ons. Kyl e coul d t ur n out t o be a seri al kill er, despit e hi s peace t att oos.
On t he ot her hand he di dn’t kno w Kyl e at all, whi ch meant no one woul d co me l ooki ng f or hi m t her e. And what di d
it matt er if Kyl e di d t ur n out t o be a seri al kill er ? he t hought bitt erl y. It woul d t ur n out worse f or Kyl e t han it woul d f or
hi m, j ust li ke it had f or t hat mugger l ast ni ght.
“ You kno w,” he sai d, “I t hi nk I’ll t ake you up on t hat, if it’ s okay.”
Kyl e nodded. “ My tr uck’ s j ust out si de if you want t o ri de i nt o t he cit y wit h me.”
Si mon bent t o gr ab hi s duff el bag and str ai ght ened wit h it sl ung over hi s shoul der. He sli d hi s phone i nt o hi s
pocket and spread his hands wide, indicating his readiness. “Let’s go.”
5H
ELL CALLS HELL
Kyle’s apartment turned out to be a pleasant surprise .Si mon expect ed a filt hy wal k- up i n an Avenue D
t ene ment, wit h r oaches cr a wli ng on t he wall s and a bed made out of mattr ess f oa m and mil k cr at es. I n r ealit y it
was a cl ean t wo- bedr oo m wit h a s mall li vi ng ar ea, a t on of bookshel ves, and l ot s of phot os on t he wall s of f a mous
surfi ng spot s. Ad mitt edl y, Kyl e see med t o be gr o wi ng marij uana pl ant s on t he fir e escape, but you coul dn’t have
everything.
Si mon’ s r oo m was basi call y an e mpt y box. Whoever had li ved t her e bef or e had l eft not hi ng behi nd but a f ut on
mattr ess. It had bar e wall s, bar e fl oors, and a si ngl e wi ndo w, t hr ough whi ch Si mon coul d see t he neon si gn of t he
Chi nese r est aur ant acr oss t he str eet. “ You li ke it ?” Kyl e i nquir ed, hovering in the doorway, his hazel eyes open
and friendly.
“It’ s gr eat,” Si mon r epli ed honestl y. “ Exactl y what I needed.”
The most expensi ve it e m i n t he apart ment was t he fl at-scr een TV i n t he li vi ng r oo m. They t hr e w t he msel ves do wn
on t he f ut on couch and wat ched bad TV as t he sunli ght di mmed out si de. Kyl e was cool, Si mon deci ded. He di dn’t
poke, di dn’t pry, di dn’t ask questi ons. He di dn’t see m t o want anyt hi ng i n exchange f or t he r oo m except f or Si mon
t o pit ch i n gr ocery money. He was j ust a fri endl y guy. Si mon wonder ed if he’ d f or gott en what or di nary hu man
beings were like.
Aft er Kyl e headed out t o work an eveni ng shift, Si mon went i nt o hi s r oo m, coll apsed on t he mattr ess, and li st ened
t o t he tr affi c goi ng by on Avenue B.
He’ d been haunt ed by t hought s of hi s mot her’ s f ace si nce he’ d l eft: t he way she’ d l ooked at hi m wit h l oat hi ng and
f ear, as if he wer e an i ntr uder i n her house. Even if he di dn’t need t o br eat he, t he t hought of it had still constri ct ed
hi s chest. But no w . . .
When he was a kid, he’d always liked traveling, because being in a new place had meant being away from all his
pr obl e ms. Even her e, j ust a ri ver a way fr o m Br ookl yn, t he me mori es t hat had been eati ng at hi m li ke aci d —t he
mugger’ s deat h, hi s mot her’ s r eacti on t o t he tr ut h of what he was —see med bl urr ed and di st ant.
Maybe t hat was t he secr et, he t hought. Keep movi ng. Li ke a shark. Go t o wher e no one can fi nd you. A f ugiti ve
and a wander er shalt t hou be i n t he eart h.
But that only worked if there was no one you cared about leaving behind.
He sl ept fitf ull y all ni ght. Hi s nat ur al ur ge was t o sl eep duri ng t he day, despit e hi s Dayli ght er po wers, and he f ought
off r estl essness and dr ea ms bef or e waki ng up l at e wit h t he sun str ea mi ng i n t hr ough t he wi ndo w. Aft er t hr o wi ng on
cl ean cl ot hes fr o m hi s knapsack, he l eft t he bedr oo m t o fi nd Kyl e i n t he kit chen, fryi ng bacon and eggs i n a Tefl on
pan.
“ Hey, r oo mmat e,” Kyl e gr eet ed hi m cheerf ull y. “ Want so me br eakf ast ?”
The si ght of t he f ood made Si mon f eel vaguel y si ck t o hi s st o mach. “ No, t hanks. I’ll t ake so me coff ee, t hough.” He
perched himself on one of the slightly lopsided bar stools.
Kyl e pushed a chi pped mug acr oss t he count er t o war d hi m. “ Br eakf ast i s t he most i mport ant meal of t he day, br o.
Even if it’ s alr eady noon.”
Si mon put hi s hands ar ound t he mug, f eeli ng t he heat seep i nt o hi s col d ski n. He cast about f or a t opi c of
conversati on —one t hat wasn’t ho w littl e he at e. “ So, I never asked you yest er day —what do you do f or a li vi ng?”
Kyl e pi cked a pi ece of bacon out of t he pan and bit i nt o it. Si mon noti ced t hat t he gol d medal at hi s t hr oat had a
patt er n of l eaves on it, and t he wor ds “ Beati Bellicos.”i “ Bea,t”i Si mon kne w, was a wor d t hat had so met hi ng t o do
wit h sai nt s; Kyl e must be Cat holi c. “ Bi ke messenger,” he sai d, che wi ng. “It’ s a weso me. I get t o ri de ar ound t he
cit y, seei ng everyt hi ng, t al ki ng t o everyone. Way bett er t han hi gh school.”
“You dropped out?”
“ Got my GED seni or year. I pr ef er t he school of lif e.” Si mon woul d have t hought Kyl e sounded ri di cul ous if it
wer en’t f or t he f act t hat he sai d “school of lif e” t he way he sai d everyt hi ng el se —wit h t ot al si ncerit y. “ What about
you? Any plans?”
Oh, you know. Wander the earth, causing death and destruction to innocent people. Maybe drink some blood.
Li ve f or ever but never have any f un. The usual. “I’ m ki nd of wi ngi ng it at t he mo ment.”
“ You mean you don’t want t o be a musi ci an?” Kyl e asked.
To Si mon’ s r eli ef hi s phone r ang bef or e he had t o ans wer t hat. He fi shed it out of hi s pocket and l ooked at t he
scr een. It was Mai a. “ Hey,” he gr eet ed her. “ What’ s up?”
“ Ar e you goi ng t o be at t hat dr ess fitti ng wit h Cl ary t hi s aft er noon?” she asked, her voi ce cr ackli ng do wn t he li ne.
She was pr obabl y calli ng fr o m pack headquart ers i n Chi nat o wn, wher e t he r ecepti on wasn’t gr eat. “ She t ol d me
she was making you go to keep her company.”
“ What ? Oh, ri ght. Yes. I’ll be t her e.” Cl ary had de manded t hat Si mon acco mpany her t o her bri des mai d’ s dr ess
fitti ng so aft er war d t hey coul d shop f or co mi cs and she coul d f eel, i n her wor ds, li ke “l ess of a frill ed- up girl y- girl.”
“ Well, I’ m goi ng t o co me t oo, t hen. I have t o gi ve Luke a message fr o m t he pack, and besi des, I f eel li ke I haven’t
seen you i n ages.”
“I kno w. I’ m r eall y sorry —”
“It’ s fi ne,” she sai d li ghtl y. “ But you’r e goi ng t o have t o l et me kno w what you’r e weari ng t o t he weddi ng event uall y,
because otherwise we’ll clash.”
She hung up, l eavi ng Si mon st ari ng at t he phone. Cl ary had been ri ght. The weddi ng was D- day, and he was
woefully unprepared for the battle.
“ One of your girlfri ends?” Kyl e asked curi ousl y. “ Was t hat r edheaded chi ck at t he gar age one of t he m? Because
she was cut e.”
“ No. That’ s Cl ary; she’ s my best fri end.” Si mon pocket ed hi s phone. “ And she has a boyfri end. Li ke, r eall y, r eall y,
really has a boyfri end. The nucl ear bo mb of boyfri ends. Tr ust me on t hi s one.”
Kyl e gri nned. “I was j ust aski ng.” He du mped t he bacon pan, no w e mpt y, i nt o t he si nk. “ So, your t wo girl s. What
are they like?”
“ They’r e very, very . . . diff er ent.” I n so me ways, Si mon t hought, t hey wer e opposit es. Mai a was cal m and
gr ounded; Isabell e li ved at a hi gh pit ch of excit e ment. Mai a was a st eady li ght i n t he darkness; Isabell e a bur ni ng
st ar, spi nni ng t hr ough t he voi d. “I mean, t hey’r e bot h gr eat. Beautif ul, and s mart . . .”
“ And t hey don’t kno w about each ot her ?” Kyl e l eaned agai nst t he count er. “ Li ke, at all ?”
Simon found himself explaining—how when he’d come back from Idris (though he didn’t mention the place by
na me), t hey’ d bot h st art ed calli ng hi m, wanti ng t o hang out. And because he li ked t he m bot h, he went. And
so meho w t hi ngs st art ed t o t ur n casuall y r o manti c wit h each of t he m, but t her e never see med t o be a chance t o
expl ai n t o eit her of t he m t hat he was seei ng so meone el se, t oo. And so meho w it had sno wball ed, and her e he
was, not wanti ng t o hurt eit her of t he m, and not kno wi ng ho w t o go on, eit her.
“ Well, if you ask me,” Kyl e sai d, t ur ni ng t o du mp hi s r e mai ni ng coff ee out i n t he si nk, “you ought t o pi ck one of
t he m and quit doggi ng ar ound. I’ m j ust sayi ng.”
Si nce hi s back was t o Si mon, Si mon coul dn’t see hi s f ace, and f or a mo ment he wonder ed if Kyl e was act uall y
angry. Hi s voi ce sounded unchar act eri sti call y stiff. But when Kyl e t ur ned ar ound, hi s expr essi on was as open and
fri endl y as ever. Si mon deci ded he must have i magi ned it.
“I kno w,” he sai d. “ You’r e ri ght.” He gl anced back t o war d t he bedr oo m. “ Look, ar e you sur e it’ s okay, me st ayi ng
her e? I can cl ear out whenever . . .”
“It’s fine. You stay as long as you need.” Kyle opened a kitchen drawer and scrabbled around until he found what
he was l ooki ng f or —a set of spar e keys on a r ubber- band ri ng. “ Ther e’ s a set f or you. You’r e t ot all y wel co me her e,
okay? I gott a go t o work, but you can hang ar ound if you want. Pl ay Hal o, or what ever. Will you be her e when I get
back?”
Si mon shr ugged. “ Pr obabl y not. I have a dr ess fitti ng t o get t o at t hr ee.”
“Cool,” said Kyle, slinging a messenger bag over his shoulder and heading toward the door. “Get them to make
you so met hi ng i n r ed. It’ s t ot all y your col or.”
“ So,” Cl ary sai d, st eppi ng out of t he dr essi ng r oo m. “ What do you t hi nk?”
She did an experimental twirl. Simon, balanced on one of Karyn’s Bridal Shop’s uncomfortable white chairs,
shift ed positi on, wi nced, and sai d, “ You l ook ni ce.”
She looked better than nice. Clary was her mother’s only bridesmaid, so she’d been allowed to pick out whatever
dr ess she want ed. She’ d sel ect ed a very si mpl e coppery sil k wit h narr o w str aps t hat fl att er ed her s mall fr a me. Her
onl y j e welry was t he Mor genst er n ri ng, wor n on a chai n ar ound her neck; t he very pl ai n sil ver chai n br ought out t he
shape of her coll ar bones and t he curve of her t hr oat.
Not t hat many mont hs ago, seei ng Cl ary dr essed up f or a weddi ng woul d have conj ur ed up i n Si mon a mi x of
f eeli ngs: dark despair (she woul d never l ove hi m) and hi gh excit e ment ( or maybe she woul d, if he coul d get up t he
nerve t o t ell her ho w he f elt). No w it j ust made hi m f eel a littl e wi stf ul.
“ Ni ce?” echoed Cl ary. “Is t hat it ? Sheesh.” She t ur ned t o Mai a. “ What dyoo u think?”
Mai a had gi ven up on t he unco mf ort abl e chairs and was sitti ng on t he fl oor, her back agai nst a wall t hat was
decorated with tiaras and long gauzy veils. She had Simon’s DS balanced on one of her knees and seemed to be
at l east partl y absor bed i n pl ayi ng Gr and Theft Aut o. “ Don’t ask me,” she sai d. “I hat e dr esses. I’ d wear j eans t o
t he weddi ng if I coul d.”
Thi s was tr ue. Si mon r ar el y sa w Mai a out of j eans and T-shirt s. I n t hat way she was t he opposit e of Isabell e, who
wore dresses and heels at even the most inappropriate times. (Though since he’d once seen her dispatch a
Ver mi s de mon wit h t he stil ett o heel of a boot, he was l ess i ncli ned t o worry about it.)
The shop bell ti nkl ed, and Jocel yn ca me i n, f oll o wed by Luke. Bot h wer e hol di ng st ea mi ng cups of coff ee, and
Jocelyn was looking up at Luke, her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining. Simon remembered what Clary had
sai d about t he m bei ng di sgusti ngl y i n l ove. He di dn’t fi nd it di sgusti ng hi mself, t hough t hat was pr obabl y because
t hey wer en’t hi s par ent s. They bot h see med so happy, and he t hought it was act uall y r at her ni ce.
Jocelyn’s eyes widened when she saw Clary. “Honey, you look gorgeous!”
“ Yeah, you have t o say t hat. You’r e my mot her,” Cl ary sai d, but she gri nned any way. “ Hey, i s t hat coff ee bl ack by
any chance?”
“ Yep. Consi der it a sorry- we’r e-l at e gift,” Luke sai d, handi ng her t he cup. “ We got hel d up. So me cat eri ng i ssue or
ot her.” He nodded t o war d Si mon and Mai a. “ Hey, guys.”
Mai a i ncli ned her head. Luke was t he head of t he l ocal wolf pack, of whi ch Mai a was a me mber. Though he’ d
br oken her of t he habit of calli ng hi m “ Mast er” or “ Sir,” she r e mai ned r espectf ul i n hi s pr esence. “I br ought you a
message fr o m t he pack,” she sai d, setti ng do wn her ga me consol e. “ They have questi ons about t he part y at t he
Ironworks—”
As Mai a and Luke f ell i nt o conversati on about t he part y t he wolf pack was t hr o wi ng i n honor of t heir al pha wolf’ s
marriage, the owner of the bridal shop, a tall woman who had been reading magazines behind the counter while
t he t eenagers chatt ed, r eali zed t hat t he peopl e who wer e act uall y goi ng t o pay f or t he dr esses had j ust arri ved,
and hurri ed f or war d t o gr eet t he m. “I j ust got your dr ess back i n, and it l ooks mar vel ous,” she gushed, t aki ng
Cl ary’ s mot her by t he ar m and st eeri ng her t o war d t he back of t he st or e. “ Co me and try it on.” As Luke st art ed
aft er t he m, she poi nt ed a t hr eat eni ng fi nger at hi m. “ You st ay her e.”
Luke, watching his fiancée disappear through a set of white swinging doors painted with wedding bells, looked
puzzled.
“Mundanes think you’re not supposed to see the bride in her wedding dress before the ceremony,” Clary
r e mi nded hi m. “It’ s bad l uck. She pr obabl y t hi nks it’ s weir d you ca me t o t he fitti ng.”
“ But Jocel yn want ed my opi ni on —” Luke br oke off and shook hi s head. “ Ah, well. Mundane cust o ms ar e so
peculi ar.” He t hr e w hi mself do wn i n a chair, and wi nced as one of t he carved r osett es poked i nt o hi s back. “ Ouch.”
“What about Shadowhunter weddings?” Maia inquired, curious. “Do they have their own customs?”
“ They do,” Luke sai d sl o wl y, “ but t hi s i sn’t goi ng t o be a cl assi c Shado whunt er cer e mony. Those specifi call y don’t
addr ess any sit uati on i n whi ch one of t he parti ci pant s i s not a Shado whunt er.”
“Really?” Maia looked shocked. “I didn’t know that.”
“ Part of a Shado whunt er marri age cer e mony i nvol ves tr aci ng per manent r unes on t he bodi es of t he parti ci pant s,”
sai d Luke. Hi s voi ce was cal m, but hi s eyes l ooked sad. “ Runes of l ove and co mmit ment. But of course, non-
Shadowhunters can’t bear the Angel’s runes, so Jocelyn and I will be exchanging rings instead.”
“That sucks,” Maia pronounced.
At t hat, Luke s mil ed. “ Not r eall y. Marryi ng Jocel yn i s all I ever want ed, and I’ m not t hat bot her ed about t he
particulars. Besides, things are changing. The new Council members have made a lot of headway toward
convi nci ng t he Cl ave t o t ol er at e t hi s sort of —”
“ Cl ary!” It was Jocel yn, calli ng fr o m t he back of t he st or e. “ Can you co me her e f or a second?”
“ Co mi ng!” Cl ary call ed, bolti ng do wn t he l ast of her coff ee. “ Uh- oh. Sounds li ke a dr ess e mer gency.”
“ Well, good l uck wit h t hat.” Mai a got t o her f eet, and dr opped t he DS back i n Si mon’ s l ap bef or e bendi ng t o ki ss
hi m on t he cheek. “I’ ve got t o go. I’ m meeti ng so me fri ends at t he Hunt er’ s Moon.”
She s mell ed pl easantl y of vanill a. Under t hat, as al ways, Si mon coul d s mell t he salt scent of bl ood, mi xed wit h a
sharp, lemony tang that was peculiar to werewolves. Every Downworlder’s blood smelled different—faeries
s mell ed li ke dead fl o wers, warl ocks li ke bur nt mat ches, and ot her va mpir es li ke met al.
Clary had once asked him what Shadowhunters smelled like.
“Sunlight,” he’d said.
“ See you l at er, baby.” Mai a str ai ght ened up, r uffl ed Si mon’ s hair once, and depart ed. As t he door cl osed behi nd
her, Cl ary fi xed hi m wit h a pi erci ng gl ar e.
“Yomuu st work your l ove lif e out by next Sat ur day,” she sai d. “I mean it, Si mon. If you don’t t ell t he m, I will.”
Luke looked bewildered. “Tell who what?”
Cl ary shook her head at Si mon. “ You’r e on t hi n i ce, Le wi s.” Wit h whi ch pr onounce ment she fl ounced a way, hol di ng
up her sil k skirt s as she went. Si mon was a mused t o not e t hat under neat h t he m she was weari ng gr een sneakers.
“ Cl earl y,” sai d Luke, “so met hi ng i s goi ng on t hat I don’t kno w about.”
Si mon l ooked over at hi m. “ So meti mes I t hi nk t hat’ s t he mott o of my lif e.”
Luke raised his eyebrows. “Has something happened?”
Si mon hesit at ed. He cert ai nl y coul dn’t t ell Luke about hi s l ove lif e —Luke and Mai a wer e i n t he sa me pack, and
wer e wolf packs wer e mor e l oyal t han str eet gangs. It woul d put Luke i n a very a wk war d positi on. It was tr ue,
t hough, t hat Luke was al so a r esource. As t he l eader of t he Manhatt an wolf pack, he had access t o all sort s of
information, and was well versed in Downworlder politics. “Have you heard of a vampire named Camille?”
Luke made a l o w whi stli ng sound. “I kno w who she i s. I’ m sur pri sed you do.”
“ Well, she’ s t he head of t he Ne w York va mpir e cl an. I do knosw omething about t he m,” Si mon sai d, a littl e stiffl y.
“I di dn’t r eali ze you di d. I t hought you want ed t o li ve li ke a hu man as much as you coul d.” Ther e was no j udg ment i n
Luke’ s voi ce, onl y curi osit y. “ No w, by t he ti me I t ook over t he do wnt o wn pack fr o m t he pr evi ous pack l eader, she
had put Raphael i n char ge. I don’t t hi nk anyone kne w wher e she’ d gone exactl y. But she i s so met hi ng of a l egend.
An extraordinarily old vampire, from everything I understand. Famously cruel and cunning. She could give the Fair
Fol k a r un f or t heir money.”
“Have you ever seen her?”
Luke shook hi s head. “ Don’t t hi nk I have, no. Why t he curi osit y?”
“Raphael mentioned her,” Simon said vaguely.
Luke’s forehead creased. “You’ve seen Raphael lately?”
Bef or e Si mon coul d ans wer, t he shop bell sounded agai n, and t o Si mon’ s sur pri se, Jace ca me i n. Cl ary hadn’t
mentioned he was coming.
I n poi nt of f act, he r eali zed, Cl ary hadn’t menti oned Jace much l at el y at all.
Jace looked from Luke to Simon. He looked as if he were mildly surprised to see Simon and Luke there, although
it was har d t o t ell. Though Si mon i magi ned t hat Jace r an t he ga mut of f aci al expr essi ons when he was al one wit h
Cl ary, hi s def ault one ar ound ot her peopl e was a fi erce sort of bl ankness. “ He l ooks,” Si mon had once sai d t o
Isabell e, “li ke he’ s t hi nki ng about so met hi ng deep and meani ngf ul, but if you ask hi m what it i s, he’ll punch you i n
t he f ace.”
“ So don’t ask hi m,” Isabell e had sai d, as if she t hought Si mon was bei ng ri di cul ous. “ No one says you t wo need t o
be fri ends.”
“Is Cl ary her e?” Jace asked, shutti ng t he door behi nd hi m. He l ooked tir ed. Ther e wer e shado ws under hi s eyes,
and he di dn’t see m t o have bot her ed t o put on a j acket, despit e t he f act t hat t he aut u mn wi nd was bri sk. Though
col d no l onger aff ect ed Si mon much, l ooki ng at Jace i n j ust j eans and a t her mal shirt made hi m f eel chill y.
“ She’ s hel pi ng Jocel yn,” expl ai ned Luke. “ But you’r e wel co me t o wait her e wit h us.”
Jace l ooked ar ound uneasil y at t he wall s hung wit h veil s, f ans, ti ar as, and seed- pearl- encr ust ed tr ai ns. “ Everyt hi ng
i s . . . so whit e.”
“ Of course it’ s whit e,” sai d Si mon. “It’ s a weddi ng.”
“ Whit e f or Shado whunt ers i s t he col or of f uner al s,” Luke expl ai ned. “ But f or mundanes, Jace, it’ s t he col or of
weddi ngs. Bri des wear whit e t o sy mboli ze t heir purit y.”
“I t hought Jocel yn sai d her dr ess wasn’t whit e,” Si mon sai d.
“ Well,” sai d Jace, “I suppose t hat shihp as sail ed.”
Luke choked on hi s coff ee. Bef or e he coul d say —or do —anyt hi ng, Cl ary wal ked back i nt o t he r oo m. Her hair was
up no w, i n sparkli ng pi ns, wit h a f e w curl s hangi ng l oose. “I don’t kno w,” she was sayi ng as she ca me cl oser t o
t he m. “ Karyn got her hands on me and di d my hair, but I’ m not sur e about t he sparkl es —”
She br oke off as she sa w Jace. It was cl ear fr o m her expr essi on t hat she hadn’t been expecti ng hi m eit her. Her
li ps part ed i n sur pri se, but she sai d not hi ng. Jace, i n hi s t ur n, was st ari ng at her, and f or once i n hi s lif e Si mon
coul d r ead Jace’ s expr essi on li ke a book. It was as if everyt hi ng el se i n t he worl d had f all en a way f or Jace but
hi mself and Cl ary, and he was l ooki ng at her wit h an unconceal ed year ni ng and desir e t hat made Si mon f eel
a wk war d, as if he had so meho w wal ked i n on a pri vat e mo ment.
Jace cl ear ed hi s t hr oat. “ You l ook beautif ul.”
“Jace.” Cl ary l ooked mor e puzzl ed t han anyt hi ng el se. “Is everyt hi ng all ri ght ? I t hought you sai d you coul dn’t co me
because of the Conclave meeting.”
“ That’ s ri ght,” Luke sai d. “I hear d about t he Shado whunt er body i n t he park. Is t her e any ne ws?”
Jace shook hi s head, still l ooki ng at Cl ary. “ No. He’ s not one of t he Ne w York Concl ave me mbers, but beyond t hat
he hasn’t been i dentifi ed. Neit her of t he bodi es have. The Sil ent Br ot hers ar e l ooki ng at t he m no w.”
“ That’ s good. The Br ot hers will fi gur e out who t hey ar e,” sai d Luke.
Jace sai d not hi ng. He was still l ooki ng at Cl ary, and it was t he oddest sort of l ook, Si mon t hought —t he sort of l ook
you might give someone you loved but could never, ever have. He imagined Jace had felt like that about Clary
once before, but now?
“Jace?” Cl ary sai d, and t ook a st ep t o war d hi m.
He t or e hi s gaze a way fr o m her. “ That j acket you borr o wed fr o m me i n t he park yest er day,” he sai d. “ Do you still
have it ?”
No w l ooki ng even mor e puzzl ed, Cl ary poi nt ed t o wher e t he it e m of cl ot hi ng i n questi on, a perf ectl y or di nary br o wn
suede j acket, was hangi ng over t he back of one of t he chairs. “It’ s over t her e. I was goi ng t o bri ng it t o you aft er —”
“ Well,” sai d Jace, pi cki ng it up and t hr usti ng hi s ar ms hastil y i nt o t he sl eeves, as if he wer e suddenl y i n a hurry,
“ no w you don’t have t o.”
“Jace,” Luke sai d i n t hat cal mi ng t one he had, “ we’r e goi ng t o get an earl y di nner i n Park Sl ope aft er t hi s. You’r e
welcome to come along.”
“ No,” Jace sai d, zi ppi ng t he j acket up. “I’ ve got tr ai ni ng t hi s aft er noon. I’ d bett er head out.”
“ Tr ai ni ng?” Cl ary echoed. “ But we tr ai ned yest er day.”
“ So me of us have t o tr ai n every day, Cl ary.” Jace di dn’t sound angry, but t her e was a harshness t o hi s t one, and
Cl ary fl ushed. “I’ll see you l at er,” he added wit hout l ooki ng at her, and pr acti call y fl ung hi mself t o war d t he door.
As it shut behi nd hi m, Cl ary r eached up and angril y yanked t he pi ns out of her hair. It cascaded i n t angl es do wn
around her shoulders.
“ Cl ary,” Luke sai d gentl y. He st ood up. “ What ar e you doi ng?”
“ My hair.” She yanked t he l ast pi n out, har d. Her eyes wer e shi ni ng, and Si mon coul d t ell she was f orci bl y willi ng
herself not t o cry. “I don’t want t o wear it li ke t hi s. It l ooks st upi d.”
“ No, it doesn’t.” Luke t ook t he pi ns fr o m her and set t he m do wn on one of t he s mall whit e end t abl es. “ Look,
weddi ngs make men nervous, okay? It doesn’t mean anyt hi ng.”
“ Ri ght.” Cl ary tri ed t o s mil e. She nearl y managed it, but Si mon coul d t ell she di dn’t beli eve Luke. He coul d har dl y
bl a me her. Aft er seei ng t he l ook on Jace’ s f ace, Si mon di dn’t beli eve hi m eit her.
I n t he di st ance t he Fift h Avenue Di ner was lit up li ke a st ar agai nst t he bl ue t wili ght. Si mon wal ked besi de Cl ary
do wn t he avenue bl ocks, Jocel yn and Luke a f e w st eps ahead of t he m. Cl ary had changed out of her dr ess and
was back i n j eans no w, a t hi ck whit e scarf wound ar ound her neck. Every once i n a whil e she woul d r each up and
t wirl t he ri ng on t he chai n ar ound her neck, a nervous gest ur e he wonder ed if she was even a war e of.
When t hey’ d l eft t he bri dal st or e, he had asked her if she kne w what was wr ong wit h Jace, but she hadn’t r eall y
ans wer ed hi m. She’ d shr ugged it off, and st art ed aski ng hi m about what was goi ng on wit h hi m, if he’ d t al ked t o
hi s mot her yet, and whet her he mi nded st ayi ng wit h Eri c. When he t ol d her he was cr ashi ng wit h Kyl e, she was
sur pri sed.
“ But you har dl y even kno w hi m,” she sai d. “ He coul d be a seri al kill er.”
“I di d have t hat t hought. I checked t he apart ment out, but if he’ s got an i ce cool er f ull of ar ms i n it, I haven’t seen it
yet. Any way, he see ms pr ett y si ncer e.”
“ So what’ s hi s apart ment li ke?”
“ Ni ce f or Al phabet Cit y. You shoul d co me over l at er.”
“ Not t oni ght,” Cl ary sai d, a littl e absentl y. She was fi ddli ng wit h t he ri ng agai n. “ Maybe t o morr o w?”
Goi ng t o see Jace? Si mon t hought, but he di dn’t pr ess t he poi nt. If she di dn’t want t o t al k about it, he wasn’t goi ng
t o make her. “ Her e we ar e.” He opened t he di ner door f or her, and a bl ast of war m souvl aki-s melli ng air hit t he m.
They f ound a boot h over by one of t he bi g fl at-scr een TVs t hat li ned t he wall s. They cr o wded i nt o it as Jocel yn and
Luke chatt er ed ani mat edl y wit h each ot her about weddi ng pl ans. Luke’ s pack, it see med, f elt i nsult ed t hat t hey
hadn’t been i nvit ed t o t he cer e mony —even t hough t he guest li st was ti ny —and wer e i nsi sti ng on hol di ng t heir o wn
cel ebr ati on i n a r enovat ed f act ory i n Queens. Cl ary li st ened, not sayi ng anyt hi ng; t he waitr ess ca me ar ound,
handi ng out menus so stiffl y l a mi nat ed t hey coul d have been used as weapons. Si mon set hi s o wn on t he t abl e
and st ar ed out t he wi ndo w. Ther e was a gy m acr oss t he str eet, and he coul d see peopl e t hr ough t he pl at e gl ass
t hat fr ont ed it, r unni ng on tr ead mill s, ar ms pu mpi ng, headphones cl a mped t o t heir ears. All t hat r unni ng and getti ng
no wher e, he t hought. St ory of my lif e.
He tri ed t o f orce hi s t hought s a way fr o m dark pl aces, and al most succeeded. Thi s was one of t he most f a mili ar
scenes i n hi s lif e, he t hought —a cor ner boot h i n a di ner, hi mself and Cl ary and her f a mil y. Luke had al ways been
f a mil y, even when he hadn’t been about t o marry Cl ary’ s mo m. Si mon ought t o f eel at ho me. He tri ed t o f orce a
s mil e, onl y t o r eali ze t hat Cl ary’ s mot her had j ust asked hi m so met hi ng and he hadn’t hear d her. Everyone at t he
t abl e was st ari ng at hi m expect antl y.
“ Sorry,” he sai d. “I di dn’t —What di d you say?”
Jocelyn smiled patiently. “Clary told me you’ve added a new member to your band?”
Si mon kne w she was j ust bei ng polit e. Well, polit e i n t hat way par ent s wer e when t hey pr et ended t o t ake your
hobbi es seri ousl y. Still, she’ d co me t o sever al of hi s gi gs bef or e, j ust t o hel p fill up t he r oo m. She di d car e about
hi m; she al ways had. I n t he very dark, t ucked- a way pl aces of hi s mi nd, Si mon suspect ed she had al ways kno wn
ho w he f elt about Cl ary, and he wonder ed if she woul dn’t have want ed her daught er t o make a diff er ent choi ce,
had it been so met hi ng she coul d contr ol. He kne w she di dn’t entir el y li ke Jace. It was cl ear even i n t he way she
said his name.
“ Yeah,” he sai d. “ Kyl e. He’ s ki nd of a weir d guy, but super ni ce.” I nvit ed, by Luke, t o expand on t he t opi c of Kyl e’ s
weir dness, Si mon t ol d t he m about Kyl e’ s apart ment —car ef ul t o l eave out t he det ail t hat it was nohiw s apart ment
t oo —hi s bi ke messenger j ob, and hi s anci ent, beat- up pi ckup tr uck. “ And he gr o ws t hese weir d pl ant s on t he
bal cony,” he added. “ Not pot —I checked. They have sort of sil very l eaves —”
Luke fr o wned, but bef or e he coul d say anyt hi ng, t he waitr ess arri ved, carryi ng a bi g sil ver coff ee pit cher. She was
young, with bl eached pal e hair ti ed i nt o t wo br ai ds. As she bent t o fill Si mon’ s coff ee cup, one of t he m br ushed hi s
ar m. He coul d s mell s weat on her, and under t hat, bl ood. Hu man bl ood, t he s weet est s mell of all. He f elt a f a mili ar
ti ght eni ng i n hi s st o mach. Col dness spr ead t hr ough hi m. He was hungry, and all he had back at Kyl e’ s pl ace was
room-temperature blood that was already beginning to separate—a sickening prospect, even for a vampire.
You have never f ed on a hu man, have you? You will. And when you do, you will not f or get it.
He cl osed hi s eyes. When he opened t he m agai n, t he waitr ess was gone and Cl ary was st ari ng at hi m curi ousl y
acr oss t he t abl e. “Is everyt hi ng okay?”
“ Fi ne.” He cl osed hi s hand ar ound hi s coff ee cup. It was shaki ng. Above t he m t he TV was still bl ari ng t he ni ghtl y
news.
“ Ugh,” Cl ary sai d, l ooki ng up at t he scr een. “ Ar e you li st eni ng t o t hi s?”
Simon followed her gaze. The news anchor was wearing that expression news anchors tended to wear when they
wer e r eporti ng on so met hi ng especi all y gri m. “ No one has co me f or war d t o i dentif y an i nf ant boy f ound
abandoned i n an all ey behi nd Bet h Isr ael hospit al sever al days ago,” he was sayi ng. “ The i nf ant i s whit e, wei ghs
si x pounds and ei ght ounces, and i s ot her wi se healt hy. He was di scover ed str apped t o an i nf ant car seat behi nd a
Du mpst er i n t he all ey,” t he anchor went on. “ Most di st ur bi ng, a hand writt en not e t ucked i nt o t he chil d’ s bl anket
begged hospit al aut horiti es t o eut hani ze t he chil d because ‘I don’t have t he str engt h t o do it myself.’ Poli ce say it
i s li kel y t hat t he chil d’ s mot her was ment all y ill, and cl ai m t hey have ‘ pr o mi si ng l eads.’ Anyone wit h i nf or mati on
about t hi s chil d shoul d call Cri me St oppers at —”
“ That’ s so horri bl e,” Cl ary sai d, t ur ni ng a way fr o m t he TV wit h a shudder. “I can’t underst and ho w peopl e j ust du mp
t heir babi es off li ke t hey’r e tr ash —”
“Jocel yn,” Luke sai d, hi s voi ce shar p wit h concer n. Si mon l ooked t o war d Cl ary’ s mot her. She was as whit e as a
sheet and l ooked as if she wer e about t o t hr o w up. She pushed her pl at e a way abr uptl y, st ood up fr o m t he t abl e,
and hurri ed t o war d t he bat hr oo m. Aft er a mo ment Luke dr opped hi s napki n and went aft er her.
“ Oh, cr ap.” Cl ary put her hand over her mout h. “I can’t beli eve I sai d t hat. I’ m so st upi d.”
Simon was thoroughly perplexed. “What’s going on?”
Cl ary sl unk do wn i n her seat. “ She was t hi nki ng about Sebasti an,” she sai d. “I mean Jonat han. My br ot her. I
assume you remember him.”
She was bei ng sarcasti c. None of t he m was li kel y t o f or get Sebasti an, whose r eal na me was Jonat han and who
had murdered Hodge and Max and had nearly succeeded in helping Valentine win a war that would have seen the
destr ucti on of all Shado whunt ers. Jonat han, who had had bur ni ng bl ack eyes and a s mil e li ke a r azor bl ade.
Jonat han, whose bl ood had t ast ed li ke batt ery aci d when Si mon had bitt en hi m once. Not t hat he r egr ett ed it.
“ But your mo m di dn’t abandon hi m,” Si mon sai d. “ She st uck wit h r ai si ng hi m even t hough she kne w t her e was
so met hi ng horri bl y wr ong wit h hi m.”
“ She hat ed hi m, t hough,” Cl ary sai d. “I don’t t hi nk she’ s ever gott en over t hat. I magi ne hati ng your o wn baby. She
used t o t ake out a box t hat had hi s baby t hi ngs i n it and cry over it every year on hi s birt hday. I t hi nk she was cryi ng
over t he son she woul d have had —you kno w, if Val enti ne hadn’t done what he had.”
“And you would have had a brother,” said Simon. “Like, an actual one. Not a murdering psychopath.”
Looki ng cl ose t o t ears, Cl ary pushed her pl at e a way. “I f eel si ck no w,” she sai d. “ You kno w t hat f eeli ng li ke you’r e
hungry but you can’t bri ng yourself t o eat ?”
Simon looked over at the bleached-haired waitress, who was leaning against the diner counter. “Yeah,” he said. “I
know.”
Luke r et ur ned t o t he t abl e event uall y, but onl y t o t ell Cl ary and Si mon t hat he was t aki ng Jocel yn ho me. He l eft
so me money, whi ch t hey used t o pay t he bill bef or e wanderi ng out of t he di ner and over t o Gal axy Co mi cs on
Sevent h Avenue. Neit her of t he m coul d concentr at e enough t o enj oy t he msel ves, t hough, so t hey split up, wit h a
pr o mi se t o see each ot her t he next day.
Si mon r ode i nt o t he cit y wit h hi s hood pull ed up and hi s i Pod on, bl asti ng musi c i nt o hi s ears. Musi c had al ways
been hi s way of bl ocki ng everyt hi ng out. By t he ti me he got out at Second Avenue and headed do wn Houst on, a
li ght r ai n had st art ed t o f all, and hi s st o mach was i n knot s.
He cut over t o First Str eet, whi ch was mostl y desert ed, a stri p of darkness bet ween t he bri ght li ght s of First
Avenue and Avenue A. Because he had hi s i Pod on, he di dn’t hear t he m co mi ng up behi nd hi m until t hey wer e
nearl y on hi m. The first i nti mati on he had t hat so met hi ng was wr ong was a l ong shado w t hat f ell acr oss t he
si de wal k, overl appi ng hi s o wn. Anot her shado w j oi ned it, t hi s one on hi s ot her si de. He t ur ned —
And sa w t wo men behi nd hi m. Bot h wer e dr essed exactl y li ke t he mugger who had att acked hi m t he ot her ni ght —
gr ay tr acksuit s, gr ay hoods pull ed up t o hi de t heir f aces. They wer e cl ose enough t o t ouch hi m.
Si mon l eaped back, wit h a f orce t hat sur pri sed hi m. Because hi s va mpir e str engt h was so ne w, it still had t he
po wer t o shock hi m. When, a mo ment l at er, he f ound hi mself perched on t he st oop of a br o wnst one, sever al f eet
a way fr o m t he muggers, he was so ast oni shed t o be t her e t hat he fr oze.
The muggers advanced on him. They were speaking the same guttural language as the first mugger—who, Simon
was begi nni ng t o suspect, had not been a mugger at all. Muggers, as f ar as he kne w, di dn’t work i n gangs, and it
was unli kel y t hat t he first mugger had cri mi nal fri ends who had deci ded t o t ake r evenge on hi m f or t heir co mr ade’ s
demise. Something else was clearly going on here.
They had r eached t he st oop, eff ecti vel y tr appi ng hi m on t he st eps. Si mon t or e hi s i Pod headphones fr o m hi s ears
and hastil y hel d hi s hands up. “ Look,” he sai d, “I don’t kno w what t hi s i s about, but you r eall y want t o l eave me
alone.”
The muggers j ust l ooked at hi m. Or at l east he t hought t hey wer e l ooki ng at hi m. Under t he shado ws of t heir
hoods, it was i mpossi bl e t o see t heir f aces.
“I’ m getti ng t he f eeli ng so meone sent you aft er me,” he sai d. “ But it’ s a sui ci de mi ssi on. Seri ousl y. I don’t kno w
what t hey’r e payi ng you, but it’ s not enough.”
One of t he tr acksuit ed fi gur es l aughed. The ot her had r eached i nt o hi s pocket and dr a wn so met hi ng out.
So met hi ng t hat shone bl ack under t he str eetli ght s.
A gun.
“ Oh, man,” Si mon sai d. “ You r eall y, r eall y don’t want t o do t hat. I’ m not ki ddi ng.” He t ook a st ep back, up one of t he
st airs. Maybe if he got enough hei ght, he coul d act uall y j u mp over t he m, or past t he m. Anyt hi ng but l et t he m att ack
hi m. He di dn’t t hi nk he coul d f ace what t hat meant. Not agai n.
The man wit h t he gun r ai sed it. Ther e was a cli ck as he pull ed t he ha mmer back.
Si mon bit hi s li p. I n hi s pani c hi s f angs had co me out. Pai n shot t hr ough hi m as t hey sank i nt o hi s ski n. “Don’t—”
A dark obj ect f ell fr o m t he sky. At first Si mon t hought so met hi ng had mer el y t u mbl ed fr o m one of t he upper
wi ndo ws —an air conditi oner ri ppi ng l oose, or so meone t oo l azy t o dr ag t heir tr ash do wnst airs. But t he f alli ng
t hi ng, he sa w, was a person —f alli ng wit h dir ecti on, pur pose, and gr ace. The person l anded on t he mugger,
knocki ng hi m fl at. The gun skitt er ed out of hi s hand, and he scr ea med, a t hi n, hi gh sound.
The second mugger bent and seized the gun. Before Simon could react, the guy had raised it and pulled the
tri gger. A spark of fl a me appear ed at t he gun’ s muzzl e.
And t he gun bl e w apart. It bl e w apart, and t he mugger bl e w apart al ong wit h it, t oo f ast t o even scr ea m. He had
i nt ended a qui ck deat h f or Si mon, and an even qui cker deat h was what he got i n r et ur n. He shatt er ed apart li ke
glass, like the outward-flying colors in a kaleidoscope. There was a soft explosion—the sound of displaced air—
and t hen not hi ng but a soft dri zzl e of salt, f alli ng ont o t he pave ment li ke soli difi ed r ai n.
Si mon’ s vi si on bl urr ed, and he sank do wn ont o t he st eps. He was a war e of a l oud hu mmi ng i n hi s ears, and t hen
someone grabbed him roughly by the wrists and shook him, hard. “Simon. Simon!”
He l ooked up. The person gr abbi ng hi m and shaki ng hi m was Jace. The ot her boy wasn’t i n gear, but was still
wearing hisj eans and t he j acket he’ d t aken back fr o m Cl ary. He was di shevel ed, hi s cl ot hes and f ace str eaked
wit h dirt and soot. Hi s hair was wet fr o m t he r ai n.
“ What t he hell was t hat ?” Jace asked.
Si mon l ooked up and do wn t he str eet. It was still desert ed. The asphalt shone, bl ack and wet and e mpt y. The
second mugger was gone.
“ You,” he sai d, a littl e gr oggil y. “ You j u mped t he muggers —”
“ Those wer en’t muggers. They wer e f oll o wi ng you si nce you got off t he sub way. So meone sent t hose guys.” Jace
spoke wit h co mpl et e sur et y.
“ The ot her one,” Si mon sai d. “ What happened t o hi m?”
“ He j ust vani shed.” Jace snapped hi s fi ngers. “ He sa w what happened t o hi s fri end, and he was gone, li ke t hat. I
don’t kno w what t hey wer e, exactl y. Not de mons, but not exactl y hu man, eit her.”
“ Yeah, I fi gur ed t hat part out, t hanks.”
Jace l ooked at hi m mor e cl osel y. “ That —what happened t o t he mugger —t hat was you, wasn’t it ? Your Mark,
her e.” He poi nt ed at hi s f or ehead. “I sa w it bur n whit e bef or e t hat guy j ust . . . di ssol ved.”
Si mon said nothing.
“I’ ve seen a l ot,” Jace sai d. Ther e was no sarcas m i n hi s voi ce, f or a change, or any mockery. “ But I’ ve never seen
anyt hi ng li ke t hat.”
“I di dn’t do it,” Si mon sai d softl y. “I di dn’t do anyt hi ng.”
“ You di dn’t have t o,” sai d Jace. Hi s gol den eyes bur ned i n hi s soot-str eaked f ace. “‘ For it i s writt en, Vengeance i s
mi ne; I will r epay, sait h t he Lor d.’”
6W
AKE THE DEAD
Jace’s room was as neat as ever—bed made perfectly, t he books t hat li ned t he shel ves arr anged i n
alphabetical order, notes and textbooks stacked carefully on the desk. Even his weapons were lined up along the
wall i n or der of si ze, fr o m a massi ve br oads wor d t o a set of s mall daggers.
Cl ary, st andi ng i n t he door way, hel d back a si gh. The neat ness was all very well. She was used t o it. It was, she
had al ways t hought, Jace’ s way of exerti ng contr ol over t he el e ment s of a lif e t hat ot her wi se mi ght see m
overwhelmed with chaos. He had lived so long not knowing who—or even what—he really was, she could hardly
begrudge him the careful alphabetization of his poetry collection.
She coul d, ho wever —and di d —begr udge t he f act t hat he wasn’t t her e. If he hadn’t gone back ho me aft er l eavi ng
t he bri dal shop, wher e had he gone? As she l ooked ar ound t he r oo m, a f eeli ng of unr ealit y ca me over her. It
wasn’t possi bl e t hat any of t hi s was happeni ng, was it ? She kne w ho w br eakups went fr o m heari ng ot her girl s
co mpl ai n about t he m. First t he pulli ng a way, t he gr adual r ef usal t o r et ur n not es or phone call s. The vague
messages sayi ng not hi ng was wr ong, t hat t he ot her person j ust want ed a littl e space. Then t he speech about ho w
“It’ s not you, it’ s me.” Then t he cryi ng part.
She’ d never t hought any of t hat woul d ever appl y t o her and Jace. What t hey had wasn’t or di nary, or subj ect t o t he
ordinary rules of relationships and breakups. They belonged to each other totally, and always would, and that was
t hat.
But maybe everyone f elt t hat way? Until t he mo ment t hey r eali zed t hey wer e j ust li ke everyone el se, and everyt hi ng
t hey’ d t hought was r eal shatt er ed apart.
So met hi ng t hat glitt er ed sil ver acr oss t he r oo m caught her eye. It was t he box A mati s had gi ven Jace, wit h it s
deli cat e desi gn of bir ds ar ound t he si des. She kne w he had been worki ng hi s way t hr ough it, r eadi ng t he l ett ers
sl o wl y, goi ng t hr ough t he not es and phot os. He hadn’t sai d much about it t o her, and she hadn’t want ed t o pry. Hi s
f eeli ngs about hi s bi ol ogi cal f at her wer e so met hi ng he was goi ng t o have t o co me t o t er ms wit h on hi s o wn.
She f ound herself dr a wn t o t he box no w, t hough. She r e me mber ed hi m sitti ng on t he fr ont st eps of t he Accor ds
Hall i n I dri s, hol di ng t he box i n hi s l ap. As if I coul d st op l ovi ng you, he’ d sai d. She t ouched t he li d of t he box, and
her fingers found the clasp, which sprung open easily. Inside were scattered papers, old photographs. She drew
one out, and st ar ed at it, f asci nat ed. Ther e wer e t wo peopl e i n t he phot ogr aph, a young wo man and a young man.
She r ecogni zed t he wo man i mmedi at el y as Luke’ s si st er, A mati s. She was gazi ng up at t he young man wit h all
t he r adi ance of first l ove. He was handso me, t all and bl ond, t hough hi s eyes wer e bl ue, not gol d, and hi s f eat ur es
l ess angul ar t han Jace’ s . . . and yet still, kno wi ng who he was —Jace’ s f at her —was enough t o make her st o mach
tighten.
She set t he phot o of St ephen Her ondal e do wn hastil y, and nearl y cut her fi nger on t he bl ade of a sli m hunti ng
dagger t hat l ay cr oss wi se i n t he box. Bir ds wer e carved al ong t he handl e. The bl ade of it was st ai ned wit h r ust, or
what l ooked li ke r ust. It must not have been cl eaned pr operl y. She shut t he box qui ckl y, and t ur ned a way, guilt li ke
a weight on her shoulders.
She had t hought about l eavi ng a not e, but, deci di ng it woul d be bett er t o wait until she coul d t al k t o Jace i n person,
she l eft and went do wn t he hall t o t he el evat or. She had knocked on Isabell e’ s door earli er, but it di dn’t l ook li ke
she was ho me eit her. Even t he wit chli ght t orches i n t he hall ways see med t o be bur ni ng at a l o wer l evel t han usual.
Feeling utterly depressed, Clary reached for the elevator call button—only to realize it was already lit. Someone
was headi ng up fr o m t he gr ound fl oor t o t he I nstit ut e.
Jace, she t hought i mmedi at el y, her pul se j u mpi ng. But of course it mi ght not be hi m, she t ol d herself. It coul d be
Izzy, or Maryse, or —
“Luke?” she said in surprise as the elevator door opened. “What are you doing here?’
“I mi ght ask you t he sa me t hi ng.” He st epped out of t he el evat or, pulli ng t he gat e shut behi nd hi m. He was weari ng
a fleece-lined zip-up flannel jacket that Jocelyn had been tryingt o get hi m t o t hr o w a way si nce t hey’ d first st art ed
dati ng. It was r at her ni ce, Cl ary t hought, t hat j ust about not hi ng see med t o change Luke, no matt er what happened
i n hi s lif e. He li ked what he li ked, and t hat was t hat. Even if it was a r att y-l ooki ng ol d coat. “ Except I t hi nk I can
guess. So, i s he her e?”
“Jace? No.” Cl ary shr ugged, tryi ng t o l ook unconcer ned. “It’ s fi ne. I’ll see hi m t o morr o w.”
Luke hesit at ed. “ Cl ary —”
“ Luci an.” The cool voi ce t hat ca me fr o m behi nd t he m was Maryse’ s. “ Thank you f or co mi ng on such short noti ce.”
He t ur ned t o nod at her. “ Maryse.”
Maryse Lightwood stood in the doorway, her hand lightly on the frame. She was wearing gloves, pale gray gloves
t hat mat ched her t ail or ed gr ay suit. Cl ary wonder ed if Maryse ever wor e j eans. She had never seen Isabell e and
Al ec’ s mot her i n anyt hi ng but po wer suit s or gear. “ Cl ary,” she sai d. “I di dn’t r eali ze you wer e her e.”
Cl ary f elt herself fl ush. Maryse di dn’t see m t o mi nd her co mi ng and goi ng, but t hen, Maryse had never r eall y
ackno wl edged Cl ary’ s r el ati onshi p wit h Jace at all. It was har d t o bl a me her. Maryse was still copi ng wit h Max’ s
deat h, whi ch had been onl y si x weeks ago, and she was doi ng it al one, wit h Robert Li ght wood still i n I dri s. She
had bi gger t hi ngs on her mi nd t han Jace’ s l ove lif e.
“I was j ust l eavi ng,” Cl ary sai d.
“I’ll gi ve you a ri de back ho me when I’ m done her e,” Luke sai d, putti ng a hand on her shoul der. “ Maryse, i s it a
pr obl e m if Cl ary r e mai ns whil e we t al k? Because I’ d pr ef er t o have her st ay.”
Maryse shook her head. “ No pr obl e m, I suppose.” She si ghed, r aki ng her hands t hr ough her hair. “ Beli eve me, I
wish I di dn’t need t o bot her you at all. I kno w you’r e getti ng marri ed i n a week —congr at ul ati ons, by t he way. I don’t
kno w if I t ol d you t hat bef or e.”
“ You di dn’t,” sai d Luke, “ but it’ s appr eci at ed. Thank you.”
“ Onl y si x weeks.” Maryse s mil ed f ai ntl y. “ Quit e a whirl wi nd court shi p.”
Luke’ s hand ti ght ened on Cl ary’ s shoul der, t he onl y si gn of hi s annoyance. “I don’t suppose you call ed me over
here to congratulate me on my engagement, did you?”
Maryse shook her head. She l ooked very tir ed, Cl ary t hought, and t her e wer e str ands of gr ay i n her ups wept dark
hair that hadn’t been there before. “No. I assume you’ve heard about the bodies we’ve been finding for the past
week or so?”
“The dead Shadowhunters, yes.”
“ We f ound anot her one t oni ght. St uff ed i n a Du mpst er near Col u mbus Park. Your pack’ s t errit ory.”
Luke’ s eyebr o ws went up. “ Yes, but t he ot hers —”
“ The first body was f ound i n Gr eenpoi nt. Warl ock t errit ory. The second fl oati ng i n a pond i n Centr al Park. The
do mai n of t he f ey. No w we have wer e wolf t errit ory.” She fi xed her gaze on Luke. “ What does t hat make you t hi nk?”
“That someone who isn’t very pleased about the new Accords is trying to set Downworlder against Downworlder,”
Luke sai d. “I can assur e you my pack di dn’t have anyt hi ng t o do wit h t hi s. I don’t kno w who’ s behi nd it, but it’ s a
very cl u msy att e mpt, if you ask me. I hope t he Cl ave can see t hr ough it.”
“ Ther e’ s mor e,” Maryse sai d. “ We’ ve i dentifi ed t he first t wo bodi es. It t ook so me ti me, si nce t he first was bur ned
nearly beyond recognition and the second was badly decomposed. Can you guess who they might have been?”
“ Mar yse —”
“ Anson Pangbor n,” she sai d, “ and Charl es Fr ee man. Neit her of who m, I mi ght not e, had been hear d fr o m si nce
Valentine’s death—”
“ But t hat’ s not possi bl e,” Cl ary i nt err upt ed. “ Luke kill ed Pangbor n, back i n August —at Renwi ck’ s.”
“ He kill ed E mil Pangbor n,” sai d Maryse. “ Anson was E mil’ s younger br ot her. They wer e bot h i n t he Circl e
t oget her.”
“ As was Fr ee man,” sai d Luke. “ So so meone i s killi ng not j ust Shado whunt ers but f or mer Circl e me mbers? And
leaving their bodies in Downworlder territory?” He shook his head. “It sounds like someone’s trying to shake up
so me of t he mor e . . . r ecal citr ant me mbers of t he Cl ave. Get t he m t o r et hi nk t he ne w Accor ds, per haps. We
shoul d have expect ed t hi s.”
“I suppose,” Maryse sai d. “I’ ve met wit h t he Seeli e Queen alr eady, and I have a message out t o Magnus.
Wherever he is.” She rolled her eyes; Maryse and Robert seemed to have accepted Alec’s relationship with
Magnus wit h sur pri si ngl y good gr ace, but Cl ary coul d t ell t hat Maryse, at l east, di dn’t t ake it seri ousl y. “I j ust
t hought, per haps —” She si ghed. “I’ ve been so exhaust ed l at el y. I f eel li ke I can har dl y t hi nk str ai ght. I hoped you
mi ght have so me i dea about who mi ght be doi ng t hi s, so me i dea t hat hadn’t occurr ed t o me.”
Luke shook hi s head. “ So meone wit h a gr udge agai nst t he ne w syst e m. But t hat coul d be anyone. I suppose
there’s no evidence on the bodies?”
Maryse si ghed. “ Not hi ng concl usi ve. If onl y t he dead coul d t al k, eh, Luci an?”
It was as if Maryse had lift ed a hand and yanked a curt ai n acr oss Cl ary’ s vi si on; everyt hi ng went dark, except f or a
single symbol, hanging like a glowing sign against a blank night sky.
It seemed her power had not vanished, after all.
“ What if . . . ,” she sai d sl o wl y, r ai si ng her eyes t o l ook at Maryse. “ What if t hey coul d?”
St ari ng at hi mself i n t he bat hr oo m mirr or i n Kyl e’ s s mall apart ment, Si mon coul dn’t hel p but wonder wher e t hat
whole business about vampires not being able to see themselves in mirrors had come from. He was able to see
hi mself perf ectl y well i n t he di nged surf ace —t ousl ed br o wn hair, wi de br o wn eyes, whit e, un marked ski n. He had
sponged off t he bl ood fr o m hi s cut li p, t hough hi s ski n had alr eady heal ed over.
He knew, objectively speaking, that becoming a vampire had made him more attractive. Isabelle had explained to
him that his movements had become graceful and that, whereas before he had seemed disheveled, somehow
no w he l ooked attr acti vel y r u mpl ed, as if he had j ust gott en out of bed. “ So meone el se’ s bed,” she had not ed,
whi ch, he’ d t ol d her, he had alr eady fi gur ed out was what she meant, t hank you.
When he l ooked at hi mself, t hough, he di dn’t see any of t hat. The por el ess whit eness of hi s ski n, as it al ways di d,
di st ur bed hi m, as di d t he dark, spi deri ng vei ns t hat sho wed at hi s t e mpl es, evi dence of t he f act t hat he had not f ed
t oday. He l ooked ali en and not li ke hi mself. Per haps t he whol e busi ness about not bei ng abl e t o see yourself i n a
mirr or once you had beco me a va mpir e was wi shf ul t hi nki ng. Maybe it was j ust t hat you no l onger r ecogni zed t he
r efl ecti on l ooki ng back at you.
Cleaned up, he headed back into the living room, where Jace was sprawled out on the futon couch, reading Kyle’s
beat en- up copy of The Lor d of t he Ri ngs. He dr opped it ont o t he coff ee t abl e as Si mon ca me i n. Hi s hair l ooked
ne wl y wet, as if he’ d spl ashed wat er on hi s f ace fr o m t he kit chen si nk.
“I can see why you li ke it her e,” he sai d, maki ng a s weepi ng gest ur e t hat enco mpassed Kyl e’ s coll ecti on of movi e
post ers and sci ence fi cti on books. “ Ther e’ s a t hi n l ayer of ner d all over everyt hi ng.”
“ Thanks. I appr eci at e t hat.” Si mon gave Jace a har d l ook. Up cl ose, under t he bri ght li ght of t he unshaded
overhead bulb, Jace looked—ill. The shadows Simon had noticed under his eyes before were more pronounced
t han ever, and hi s ski n see med ti ght over t he bones of hi s f ace. Hi s hand shook a littl e as he pushed hi s hair a way
fr o m hi s f or ehead i n a char act eri sti c gest ur e.
Si mon shook hi s head as if t o cl ear it. Si nce when di d he kno w Jace well enough t o be abl e t o i dentif y whi ch
gest ur es of hi s wer e char act eri sti c? It wasn’t as if t hey wer e fri ends. “ You l ook l ousy,” he sai d.
Jace bli nked. “ See ms an odd ti me t o st art an i nsult cont est, but if you i nsi st, I coul d pr obabl y t hi nk up so met hi ng
good.”
“ No, I mean it. You don’t l ook good.”
“ Thi s fr o m a guy who has all t he sex appeal of a pengui n. Look, I r eali ze you may be j eal ous t hat t he good Lor d
di dn’t deal you t he sa me chi sel ed hand he dealt me, but t hat’ s no r eason t o —”
“I am not tryi ng t o i nsult you,” Si mon snapped. “I mean you l ook sick . When was t he l ast ti me you at e anyt hi ng?”
Jace looked thoughtful. “Yesterday?”
“You ate something yesterday. You’re sure?”
Jace shr ugged. “ Well, I woul dn’t s wear on a st ack of Bi bl es. I t hi nk it was yest er day, t hough.”
Simon had investigated the contents of Kyle’s fridge earlier when he’d been searching the place, and there hadn’t
been much t o fi nd. A wit her ed- up ol d li me, so me soda cans, a pound of gr ound beef, and, i nexpli cabl y, a si ngl e
Pop- Tart i n t he fr eezer. He gr abbed hi s keys off t he kit chen count er. “ Co me on,” he sai d. “ Ther e’ s a super market
on t he cor ner. Let’ s get you so me f ood.”
Jace l ooked as if he wer e i n t he mood t o obj ect, t hen shr ugged. “ Fi ne,” he sai d, i n t he t one of so meone who di dn’t
much car e wher e t hey went or what t hey di d t her e. “ Let’ s go.”
Out si de on t he fr ont st eps Si mon l ocked t he door behi nd t he m wit h t he keys he was still getti ng used t o, whil e
Jace exa mi ned t he li st of na mes next t o t he apart ment door bell buzzers. “ That one’ s yours, huh?” he asked,
poi nti ng t o 3 A. “ Ho w co me it j ust says ‘ Kyl e’ ? Doesn’t he have a l ast na me?”
“ Kyl e want s t o be a r ock st ar,” Si mon sai d, headi ng do wn t he st airs. “I t hi nk he’ s worki ng t he one- na me t hi ng. Li ke
Rihanna.”
Jace f oll o wed hi m, hunchi ng hi s shoul ders sli ghtl y agai nst t he wi nd, t hough he made no move t o zi p up t he suede
j acket he’ d r etri eved fr o m Cl ary earli er t hat day. “I have no i dea what you’r e t al ki ng about.”
“I’ m sur e you don’t.”
As t hey r ounded t he cor ner ont o Avenue B, Si mon l ooked at Jace si de ways. “ So,” he sai d. “ Wer e you f oll o wi ng
me? Or i s it j ust an a mazi ng coi nci dence t hat you happened t o be on t he r oof of a buil di ng I was wal ki ng by when I
got attacked?”
Jace st opped at t he cor ner, waiti ng f or t he li ght t o t ur n. Apparently even Shadowhunters had to obey traffic laws. “I
was following you.”
“Is t hi s t he part wher e you t ell me you’r e secr etl y i n l ove wit h me? Va mpir e moj o stri kes agai n.”
“ Ther e’ s no such t hi ng as va mpir e moj o,” sai d Jace, r at her eeril y echoi ng Cl ary’ s earli er co mment. “ And I was
f oll o wi ng Cl ary, but t hen she got i nt o a cab, and I can’t f oll o w a cab. So I doubl ed back and f oll o wed you i nst ead.
Mostl y f or so met hi ng t o do.”
“ You wer e f oll o wi ng Cl ary?” Si mon echoed. “ Her e’ s a hot ti p: Most girl s don’t li ke bei ng st al ked.”
“ She l eft her phone i n t he pocket of my j acket,” Jace sai d, patti ng hi s ri ght si de, wher e, pr esu mabl y, t he phone
was st ashed. “I t hought if I coul d fi gur e out wher e she was goi ng, I coul d l eave it wher e she’ d fi nd it.”
“ Or,” Si mon sai d, “you coul d call her at ho me and t ell her you had her phone, and she coul d co me and get it fr o m
you.”
Jace sai d not hi ng. The li ght changed, and t hey headed acr oss t he str eet t o war d t he C- To wn super market. It was
still open. Market s i n Manhatt an never cl osed, Si mon t hought, whi ch was a ni ce change fr o m Br ookl yn. Manhatt an
was a good place to be a vampire. You could do all your shopping at midnight and no one would think it was
weir d.
“You’re avoiding Clary,” Simon observed. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me why?”
“ No, I don’t,” Jace sai d. “Just count yourself l ucky I was f oll o wi ng you, or —”
“ Or what ? Anot her mugger woul d be dead?” Si mon coul d hear t he bitt er ness i n hi s o wn voi ce. “ You sa w what
happened.”
“ Yes. And I sa w t he l ook on your f ace when it di d.” Jace’ s t one was neutr al. “ That wasn’t t he first ti me you’ ve seen
t hat happen, was it ?”
Si mon f ound hi mself t elli ng Jace about t he tr acksuit ed fi gur e who had att acked hi m i n Willi a msbur g, and ho w he
had assu med it was j ust a mugger. “ Aft er he di ed, he t ur ned i nt o salt,” he fi ni shed. “Just li ke t he second guy. I
guess it’ s a bi bli cal t hi ng. Pill ars of salt. Li ke Lot’ s wif e.”
They had reached the supermarket; Jace shoved the door open, and Simon followed him in, grabbing a miniature
wheel ed sil ver cart fr o m t he li ne near t he fr ont door. He st art ed t o push it do wn one of t he ai sl es, and Jace
f oll o wed hi m, cl earl y l ost i n t hought. “ So I guess t he questi on i s,” Jace sai d, “ do you have any i dea who mi ght want
t o kill you?”
Si mon shr ugged. The si ght of all t he f ood ar ound hi m was maki ng hi s st o mach t wi st, r e mi ndi ng hi m ho w hungry he
was, t hough not f or anyt hi ng t hey sol d her e. “ Maybe Raphael. He see ms t o hat e me. And he want ed me dead
before—”
“It’ s not Raphael,” sai d Jace.
“How can you be so sure?”
“ Because Raphael kno ws about your Mark and woul dn’t be st upi d enough t o stri ke at you dir ectl y li ke t hat. He’ d
kno w exactl y what woul d happen. Whoever’ s aft er you, it’ s so meone who kno ws enough about you t o kno w wher e
you’r e li kel y t o be, but t hey don’t kno w about t he Mark.”
“ But t hat coul d be anyone.”
“Exactly,” said Jace, and grinned. For a moment he almost looked like himself again.
Si mon shook hi s head. “ Look, do you kno w what you want t o eat, or do you j ust want me t o keep pushi ng t hi s cart
up and down aisles because it amuses you?”
“ That,” sai d Jace, “ and I’ m not r eall y f a mili ar wit h what t hey sell i n mundane gr ocery st or es. Maryse usuall y cooks
or we or der i n f ood.” He shr ugged, and pi cked up a pi ece of fr uit at r ando m. “ What’ s t hi s?”
“ That’ s a mango.” Si mon st ar ed at Jace. So meti mes it r eall y was li ke Shado whunt ers wer e fr o m an ali en pl anet.
“I don’t t hi nk I’ ve ever seen one of t hose t hat wasn’t alr eady cut up,” Jace mused. “I li ke mangoes.”
Si mon gr abbed t he mango and t ossed it i nt o t he cart. “ Gr eat. What el se do you li ke?”
Jace ponder ed f or a mo ment. “ To mat o soup,” he sai d fi nall y.
“Tomato soup? You want tomato soup and a mango for dinner?”
Jace shrugged. “I don’t really care about food.”
“ Fi ne. What ever. St ay her e. I’ll be ri ght back.” Shado whunt ers. Si mon seet hed qui etl y t o hi mself as he r ounded t he
corner of an aisle lined with soup cans. They were a sort of bizarre amalgam of millionaires—people who never
had t o consi der t he pett y part s of lif e, li ke ho w t o shop f or f ood, or use Metr o Car d machi nes i n t he sub way —and
sol di ers, wit h t heir ri gi d self- di sci pli ne and const ant tr ai ni ng. Maybe it was easi er f or t he m, goi ng t hr ough lif e wit h
bli nders on, he t hought as he gr abbed a soup can off t he shelf. Maybe it hel ped you keep your f ocus on t he bi g
pi ct ur e —whi ch, when your j ob was basi call y keepi ng t he worl d saf e fr o m evil, was a pr ett y bi g pi ct ur e i ndeed.
He was f eeli ng nearl y sy mpat heti c t o war d Jace as he near ed t he ai sl e wher e he’ d l eft hi m—t hen paused. Jace
was l eani ng agai nst t he cart, t ur ni ng so met hi ng over i n hi s hands. Fr o m t hi s di st ance Si mon coul dn’t see what it
was, and he coul dn’t get cl oser, eit her, because t wo t eenage girl s wer e bl ocki ng hi s way, st andi ng i n t he mi ddl e of
the aisle giggling and crowding up against each other to whisper the way girls did. They were obviously dressed
t o pass f or t went y- one, i n hi gh heel s and short skirt s, push- up br as and no j acket s t o keep t he chill a way.
They smelled like lip gloss. Lip gloss and baby powder and blood.
He coul d hear t he m, of course, despit e t he whi speri ng. They wer e t al ki ng about Jace, ho w hot he was, each
dari ng t he ot her t o go up and t al k t o hi m. Ther e was a gr eat deal of di scussi on of hi s hair and al so hi s abs,
alt hough ho w t hey coul d r eall y see hi s abs t hough hi s T-shirt, Si mon wasn’t sur e. Bl ech, he t hought. Thi s i s
ridiculous . He was about t o say “ Excuse me” when one of t he m, t he t all er and darker- hair ed of t he t wo, br oke
away and sauntered over to Jace, wobbling a little on her platform heels. Jace looked up as she approached him,
his eyes wary, and Simon had the sudden panicked thought that maybe Jace would mistake her for a vampire or
so me ki nd of succubus and whi p out one of hi s ser aph bl ades on t he spot, and t hen t hey’ d bot h be arr est ed.
He needn’t have worri ed. Jace j ust arched an eyebr o w. The girl sai d so met hi ng t o hi m br eat hl essl y; he shr ugged;
she pr essed so met hi ng i nt o hi s hand, and t hen dashed back t o her fri end. They wobbl ed out of t he st or e, gi ggli ng
together.
Si mon went over t o Jace and dr opped t he soup can i nt o t he cart. “ So what was all t hat about ?”
“I t hi nk,” Jace sai d, “t hat she asked if she coul d t ouch my mango.”
“She said t hat ?”
Jace shr ugged. “ Yeah, t hen she gave me her nu mber.” He showed Simon the piece of paper with an expression
of bl and i ndiff er ence, t hen t ossed it i nt o t he cart. “ Can we go no w?”
“ You’r e not goi ng t o call her, ar e you?”
Jace l ooked at hi m as if he wer e i nsane.
“ For get I sai d t hat,” sai d Si mon. “ Thi s sort of t hi ng happens t o you all t he ti me, doesn’t it ? Girl s j ust co mi ng up t o
you?”
“ Onl y when I’ m not gl a mour ed.”
“ Yes, because when you ar e, girl s can’t see you, because you’r e invisible.” Si mon shook hi s head. “ You’r e a
publi c menace. You shoul dn’t be all o wed out on your o wn.”
“Jealousy is such an ugly emotion, Lewis.” Jace grinned a crooked grin that normally would have made Simon
want t o hit hi m. Not t hi s ti me, t hough. He had j ust r eali zed what it was t hat Jace had been pl ayi ng wit h, t ur ni ng over
and over i n hi s fi ngers as if it wer e so met hi ng pr eci ous or danger ous or bot h. It was Cl ary’ s phone.
“I’ m still not sur e t hat t hi s i s a good i dea,” sai d Luke.
Cl ary, her ar ms cr ossed over her chest t o war d off t he chill of t he Sil ent Cit y, l ooked si de ways at hi m. “ Maybe you
shoul d have sai d t hat bef or e we got her e.”
“I’ m f airl y sur e I di d. Sever al ti mes.” Luke’ s voi ce echoed off t he st one pill ars t hat r ose over head, stri ped wit h
bands of semiprecious stone—black onyx, green jade, rose carnelian, and blue lapis. Silvery witchlight burned in
t orches att ached t o t he pill ars, li ghti ng t he mausol eu ms t hat li ned each wall t o a bri ght whit e t hat was al most
pai nf ul t o l ook at.
Littl e had changed i n t he Sil ent Cit y si nce t he l ast ti me Cl ary had been her e. It still f elt ali en and str ange, t hough
no w t he s weepi ng r unes t hat str et ched acr oss t he fl oors i n carved whorl s and et ched patt er ns t eased her mi nd
wit h t he edges of t heir meani ngs, i nst ead of bei ng t ot all y i nco mpr ehensi bl e. Maryse had l eft her and Luke her e i n
t hi s entry cha mber t he mo ment t hey had arri ved, pr ef erri ng t o go and conf er wit h t he Sil ent Br ot hers herself. Ther e
was no guar ant ee t hey’ d l et t he t hr ee of t he m i n t o see t he bodi es, she’ d war ned Cl ary. Nephili m dead wer e t he
province of the Bone City’s guardians, and no one else had jurisdiction over them.
Not t hat t her e wer e many such guar di ans l eft. Val enti ne had kill ed nearl y all of t he m whil e searchi ng f or t he Mort al
Swor d, l eavi ng ali ve onl y t he f e w who had not been i n t he Sil ent Cit y at t he ti me. Ne w me mbers had been added
t o t heir or der si nce t hen, but Cl ary doubt ed t her e wer e mor e t han t en or fift een Sil ent Br ot hers l eft i n t he worl d.
The harsh cl ack of Maryse’ s heel s on t he st one fl oor al ert ed t he m t o her r et ur n bef or e she act uall y appear ed, a
r obed Sil ent Br ot her tr aili ng i n her wake. “ Her e you ar e,” she sai d, as if Cl ary and Luke wer en’t exactl y wher e
she’ d l eft t he m. “ Thi s i s Br ot her Zachari ah. Br ot her Zachari ah, t hi s i s t he girl I was t elli ng you about.”
The Sil ent Br ot her pushed hi s hood back very sli ghtl y fr o m hi s f ace. Cl ary hel d back a st art of sur pri se. He di dn’t
look like Brother Jeremiah had, with his hollowed eyes and stitched mouth. Brother Zachariah’s eyes were closed,
hi s hi gh cheekbones each marked wit h t he scar of a si ngl e bl ack r une. But hi s mout h wasn’t stit ched shut, and she
di dn’t t hi nk hi s head was shaved, eit her. It was har d t o t ell, wit h t he hood up, whet her she was seei ng shado ws or
dark hair.
She f elt hi s voi ce t ouch her mi nd. You tr ul y beli eve you can do t hi s t hi ng, Val enti ne’ s daught er ?
She felt her cheeks flush. She hated being reminded of whose daughter she was.
“ Sur el y you’ ve hear d of t he ot her t hi ngs she’ s done,” sai d Luke. “ Her r une of bi ndi ng hel ped us end t he Mort al
War.”
Br ot her Zachari ah r ai sed hi s hood t o hi de hi s f ace. Co me wit h me t o t he Ossuari u m.
Cl ary l ooked at Luke, hopi ng f or a supporti ve nod, but he was st ari ng str ai ght ahead and fi ddli ng wit h hi s gl asses
t he way he di d when he was anxi ous. Wit h a si gh she set off aft er Maryse and Br ot her Zachari ah. He moved as
silently as fog, while Maryse’s heels sounded like gunshots on the marble floors. Clary wondered if Isabelle’s
propensity for unsuitable footwear was genetic.
They f oll o wed a wi ndi ng pat h t hr ough t he pill ars, passi ng t he gr eat squar e of t he Speaki ng St ars, wher e t he Sil ent
Br ot hers had first t ol d Cl ary about Magnus Bane. Beyond t he squar e was an arched door way, set wit h a pair of
enormous iron doors. Into their surfaces had been burned runes that Clary recognized as runes of death and
peace. Over t he doors was writt en an i nscri pti on i n Lati n t hat made her wi sh she had her not es wit h her. She was
woef ull y behi nd i n Lati n f or a Shado whunt er; most of t he m spoke it li ke a second l anguage.
Taceant Coll oqui a. Eff ugi at ri sus. Hi c l ocus est ubi mors gaudet succurr er e vit ae.
“Let conversation stop. Let laughter cease,” Luke read aloud“. Her e i s t he pl ace wher e t he dead deli ght t o t each
t he li vi ng.”
Brother Zachariah laid a hand on the door. The most recent of the murdered dead has been made ready for you.
Are you prepared?
Cl ary s wall o wed har d, wonderi ng exactl y what it was she had gott en herself i nt o. “I’ m r eady.”
The doors s wung wi de, and t hey fil ed t hr ough. I nsi de was a l ar ge, wi ndo wl ess r oo m wit h wall s of s moot h whit e
mar bl e. They wer e f eat ur el ess save f or hooks on whi ch hung sil very i nstr u ment s of di ssecti on: shi ni ng scal pel s,
things that looked like hammers, bone saws, and rib spreaders. And beside them on shelves were even more
peculi ar i nstr u ment s: massi ve corkscr e w-li ke t ool s, sheet s of sandpapery mat eri al, and j ars of multi col or ed li qui d,
including a greenish one labeled “Acid” that actually seemed to be steaming.
The cent er of t he r oo m f eat ur ed a r o w of hi gh mar bl e t abl es. Most wer e bar e. Thr ee wer e occupi ed, and on t wo of
t hose t hr ee, all Cl ary coul d see was a hu man shape conceal ed by a whit e sheet. On t he t hir d t abl e l ay a body, t he
sheet pull ed do wn t o j ust bel o w t he ri b cage. Naked fr o m t he wai st up, t he body was cl earl y mal e, and j ust as
clearly a Shadowhunter. The corpse-pale skin was inked all over with Marks. The dead man’s eyes had been
bound wit h whit e sil k, as per Shado whunt er cust o m.
Clary swallowed back her rising nausea and moved to stand beside the corpse. Luke came with her, his hand
pr ot ecti vel y on her shoul der; Maryse st ood opposit e t he m, wat chi ng everyt hi ng wit h her curi ous bl ue eyes, t he
same color as Alec’s.
Cl ary dr e w her st el e fr o m her pocket. She coul d f eel t he chill of t he mar bl e t hr ough her shirt as she l eaned over t he
dead man. Thi s cl ose, she coul d see det ail s —t hat hi s hair had been r eddi sh br o wn, and t hat hi s t hr oat had been
t or n cl ean t hr ough i n stri ps, as if by a massi ve cl a w.
Br ot her Zachari ah r eached out and r e moved t he sil k bi ndi ng fr o m t he dead man’ s eyes. Beneat h it, t hey wer e
closed. You may begin.
Cl ary t ook a deep br eat h and set t he ti p of t he st el e t o t he ski n of t he dead Shado whunt er’ s ar m. The r une she had
vi suali zed bef or e, i n t he entry way of t he I nstit ut e, ca me back t o her as cl earl y as t he l ett ers of her o wn na me. She
began to draw.
The bl ack Mark li nes spir al ed out fr o m t he ti p of her st el e, much as t hey al ways di d —but her hand f elt heavy, t he
st el e it self dr aggi ng sli ghtl y, as if she wer e writi ng i n mud r at her t han on ski n. It was as if t he i mpl e ment wer e
conf used, skitt eri ng over t he surf ace of t he dead ski n, seeki ng t he li vi ng spirit of t he Shado whunt er t hat was no
l onger t her e. Cl ary’ s st o mach chur ned as she dr e w, and by t he ti me she was done and had r etr act ed her st el e,
she was sweating and nauseated.
For a l ong mo ment not hi ng happened. Then, wit h a t erri bl e suddenness, t he dead Shado whunt er’ s eyes fli cked
open. They wer e bl ue, t he whit es fl ecked r ed wit h bl ood.
Maryse let out a long gasp. It was clear she hadn’t really believed the rune would work. “By the Angel.”
A r attli ng br eat h ca me fr o m t he dead man, t he sound of so meone tryi ng t o br eat he t hr ough a cut t hr oat. The
r agged ski n of hi s neck fl utt er ed li ke a fi sh’ s gill s. Hi s chest r ose, and wor ds ca me fr o m hi s mout h.
“It hurt s.”
Luke s wor e, and gl anced t o war d Zachari ah, but t he Sil ent Br ot her was i mpassi ve.
Maryse moved closer to the table, her eyes suddenly sharp, almost predatory. “Shadowhunter,” she said. “Who
are you? I demand your name.”
The man’ s head t hr ashed fr o m si de t o si de. Hi s hands r ose and f ell convul si vel y. “ The pai n . . . Make t he pai n
st op.”
Cl ary’ s st el e nearl y dr opped fr o m her hand. Thi s was much mor e a wf ul t han she had i magi ned. She l ooked t o war d
Luke, who was backi ng a way fr o m t he t abl e, hi s eyes wi de wit h horr or.
“ Shado whunt er.” Maryse’ s t one was i mperi ous. “ Who di d t hi s t o you?”
“ Pl ease . . .”
Luke whirl ed ar ound, hi s back t o Cl ary. He see med t o be r u mmagi ng a mong t he Sil ent Br ot her’ s t ool s. Cl ary
stood frozen as Maryse’s gray-gloved hand shot out, and closed on the corpse’s shoulder, her fingers digging in.
“I n t he na me of t he Angel, I co mmand you t o ans wer me!”
The Shadowhunter made a choking sound. “ Do wnworl der . . . va mpir e . . .”
“Which vampire?” Maryse demanded.
“ Ca mill e. The anci ent one —” The wor ds choked off as a gout of bl ack cl ott ed bl ood pour ed fr o m t he dead mout h.
Maryse gasped and jerked her hand back. As she did so, Luke reappeared, carrying the jar of green acid liquid
t hat Cl ary had noti ced earli er. Wit h a si ngl e gest ur e he yanked t he li d off and sl oshed t he aci d over t he Mark on
t he cor pse’ s ar m, er adi cati ng it. The cor pse gave a si ngl e scr ea m as t he fl esh si zzl ed —and t hen it coll apsed
back agai nst t he t abl e, eyes bl ank and st ari ng, what ever had ani mat ed it f or t hat bri ef peri od cl earl y gone.
Luke set t he e mpt y j ar of aci d do wn on t he t abl e. “ Maryse.” Hi s voi ce was r epr oachf ul. “ Thi s i s not ho w we tr eat
our dead.”
“I will deci de ho w we tr eaot ur dead, Do wnworl der.” Maryse was pal e, her cheeks spott ed wit h r ed. “ We have a
na me no w. Ca mill e. Per haps we can pr event mor e deat hs.”
“ Ther e ar e worse t hi ngs t han deat h.” Luke r eached a hand out f or Cl ary, not l ooki ng at her. “ Co me on, Cl ary. I t hi nk
it’ s ti me f or us t o go.”
* * *
“ So you r eall y can’t t hi nk of anyone el se who mi ght want t o kill you?” Jace asked, not f or t he first ti me. They’ d gone
over t he li st sever al ti mes, and Si mon was getti ng tir ed of bei ng asked t he sa me questi ons over and over. Not t o
menti on t hat he suspect ed Jace was onl y partl y payi ng att enti on. Havi ng alr eady eat en t he soup Si mon had
bought —col d, out of t he can, wit h a spoon, whi ch Si mon coul dn’t hel p t hi nki ng was di sgusti ng —he was l eani ng
agai nst t he wi ndo w, t he curt ai n pull ed asi de sli ghtl y so t hat he coul d see t he tr affi c goi ng by on Avenue B, and t he
bri ghtl y lit wi ndo ws of t he apart ment s acr oss t he str eet. Thr ough t he m Si mon coul d see peopl e eati ng di nner,
wat chi ng t el evi si on, and sitti ng ar ound a t abl e t al ki ng. Or di nary t hi ngs t hat or di nary peopl e di d. It made hi m f eel
oddly hollow.
“ Unli ke i n your case,” sai d Si mon, “t her e ar en’t act uall y all t hat many peopl e who di sli ke me.”
Jace i gnor ed t hi s. “ Ther e’ s so met hi ng you’r e not t elli ng me.”
Si mon si ghed. He hadn’t want ed t o say anyt hi ng about Ca mill e’ s off er, but i n t he f ace of so meone tryi ng t o kill hi m,
ho wever i neff ect uall y, maybe secr ecy wasn’t such a pri orit y. He expl ai ned what had happened at hi s meeti ng wit h
t he va mpir e wo man, whil e Jace wat ched hi m wit h an i nt ent expr essi on.
When he was done, Jace sai d, “I nt er esti ng, but she’ s not li kel y t o be t he one tryi ng t o kill you eit her. She kno ws
about your Mark, f or one t hi ng. And I’ m not sur e she’ d be keen t o get caught br eaki ng t he Accor ds li ke t hat. When
Do wnworl ders ar e t hat ol d, t hey usuall y kno w ho w t o st ay out of tr oubl e.” He set hi s soup can do wn. “ We coul d go
out agai n,” he suggest ed. “ See if t hey try t o att ack a t hir d ti me. If we coul d j ust capt ur e one of t he m, maybe we —”
“ No,” Si mon sai d. “ Why ar e you al ways tryi ng t o get yourself kill ed?”
“It’ s my j ob.”
“It’ s a hazard of your j ob. At l east f or most Shado whunt ers. For you it see ms t o be t he pur pose.”
Jace shr ugged. “ My f at her al ways sai d —” He br oke off, hi s f ace har deni ng. “ Sorry. I meant Val enti ne. By t he
Angel. Every ti me I call hi m t hat, it f eel s li ke I’ m betr ayi ng my r eal f at her.”
Si mon f elt sy mpat heti c t o war d Jace despit e hi mself. “ Look, you t hought he was your f at her f or what, si xt een
years? That doesn’t j ust go a way i n a day. And you never met t he guy who was r eall y your f at her. And he’ s dead.
So you can’t r eall y betr ay hi m. Just t hi nk of yourself as so meone who has t wo f at hers f or a whil e.”
“ You can’t have t wo f at hers.”
“ Sur e you can,” Si mon sai d. “ Who says you can’t ? We can buy you one of t hose books t hey have f or littl e ki ds.
Ti mmy Has Two Dads. Except I don’t t hi nk t hey have one call ed Ti mmy Has Two Dads and One of The m Was
Evil . That part you’r e j ust goi ng t o have t o work t hr ough on your o wn.”
Jace r oll ed hi s eyes. “It’ s f asci nati ng,” he sai d. “ You kno w all t hese wor ds, and t hey’r e all Engli sh, but when you
stri ng t he m t oget her i nt o sent ences, t hey j ust don’t make any sense.” He t ugged li ghtl y on t he wi ndo w curt ai n. “I
woul dn’t expect you t o underst and.”
“ My f at her’ s dead,” sai d Si mon.
Jace t ur ned t o l ook at hi m. “ What ?”
“I fi gur ed you di dn’t kno w,” sai d Si mon. “I mean, it’ s not li ke you wer e goi ng t o ask, or ar e parti cul arl y i nt er est ed i n
anyt hi ng about me. So, yeah. My f at her’ s dead. So we do have t hat i n co mmon.” Suddenl y exhaust ed, he l eaned
back agai nst t he f ut on. He f elt si ck and di zzy and tir ed —a deep tir edness t hat see med t o have sunk i nt o hi s
bones. Jace, on t he ot her hand, see med possessed of a r estl ess ener gy t hat Si mon f ound a littl e di st ur bi ng. It
hadn’t been easy wat chi ng hi m eat t hat t o mat o soup, eit her. It had l ooked t oo much li ke bl ood f or hi s co mf ort.
Jace eyed hi m. “ Ho w l ong has it been si ncyeo u . . . at e? You l ook pr ett y bad.”
Si mon si ghed. He supposed he coul dn’t say anyt hi ng, aft er pest eri ng Jace t o eat so met hi ng. “ Hang on,” he sai d.
“I’ll be ri ght back.”
Peeli ng hi mself off t he f ut on, he went i nt o hi s bedr oo m and r etri eved hi s l ast bottl e of bl ood fr o m under t he bed.
He tri ed not t o l ook at it —separ at ed bl ood was a si ckeni ng si ght. He shook t he bottl e har d as he headed i nt o t he
li vi ng r oo m, wher e Jace was still st ari ng out t he wi ndo w.
Leani ng agai nst t he kit chen count er, Si mon unscr e wed t he bottl e of bl ood and t ook a s wi g. Nor mall y he di dn’t li ke
dri nki ng t he st uff i n fr ont of ot her peopl e, but t hi s was Jace, and he di dn’t car e what Jace t hought. Besi des, it
wasn’t as if Jace hadn’t seen hi m dri nk bl ood bef or e. At l east Kyl e wasn’t ho me. That woul d be a har d one t o
explain to his new roommate. Nobody liked a guy who kept blood in the fridge.
Two Jaces eyed hi m—one t he r eal Jace, t he ot her hi s r efl ecti on i n t he wi ndo wpane. “ You can’t j ust ski p f eedi ng,
you know.”
Si mon shr ugged. “I’ m eati ng no w.”
“ Yeah,” Jace sai d, “ but you’r e a va mpir e. Bl ood i sn’t li ke f ood f or you. Bl ood i s . . . bl ood.”
“ That’ s very ill u mi nati ng.” Si mon fl ung hi mself i nt o t he ar mchair acr oss fr o m t he TV; it had pr obabl y once been a
pal e gol d vel vet but was no w wor n t o t he gr ayi sh pil e. “ Do you have a l ot of ot her pr of ound t hought s li ke t hat ?
Blood is blood? A toaster is a toaster? A Gelatinous Cube is a Gelatinous Cube?”
Jace shrugged. “Fine. Ignore my advice. You’ll be sorry later.”
Bef or e Si mon coul d ans wer, he hear d t he sound of t he fr ont door openi ng. He l ooked daggers at Jace. “ That’ s my
r oo mmat e. Kyl e. Be ni ce.”
Jace s mil ed char mi ngl y. “I’ m al ways ni ce.”
Si mon had no chance t o r espond t o t hi s t he way he woul d have li ked, f or a mo ment l at er Kyl e bounded i nt o t he
r oo m, l ooki ng bri ght- eyed and ener geti c. “ Man, I was all over t o wn t oday,” he sai d. “I al most got l ost, but you kno w
what t hey say. Br onx up, Batt ery do wn —” He l ooked at Jace, r egi st eri ng bel at edl y t hat t her e was so meone el se i n
t he r oo m. “ Oh, hey. I di dn’t kno w you had a fri end over.” He hel d out a hand. “I’ m Kyl e.”
Jace did not respond in kind. To Simon’s surprise, Jace had gone rigid all over, his pale yellow eyes narrowing,
hi s whol e body di spl ayi ng t hat Shado whunt er wat chf ul ness t hat see med t o tr ansf or m hi m fr o m an or di nary
t eenage boy i nt o so met hi ng very much ot her t han t hat.
“I nt er esti ng,” he sai d. “ You kno w, Si mon never menti oned t hat hi s ne w r oo mmat e was a wer e wolf.”
Cl ary and Luke dr ove most of t he way back t o Br ookl yn i n sil ence. Cl ary st ar ed out t he wi ndo w as t hey went,
watching Chi nat o wn sli de past, and t hen t he Willi a msbur g Bri dge, lit up li ke a chai n of di a monds agai nst t he ni ght
sky. I n t he di st ance, out over t he bl ack wat er of t he ri ver, she coul d see Renwi ck’ s, ill u mi nat ed as it al ways was. It
looked like a ruin again, empty black windows gaping like the eye holes in a skull. The voice of the dead
Shadowhunter whispered in her mind:
The pai n . . . Make t he pai n st op.
She shuddered and drew her jacket more tightly around her shoulders. Luke glanced at her briefly but said
not hi ng. It wasn’t until he had pull ed up i n fr ont of hi s house and kill ed t he engi ne of t he tr uck t hat he t ur ned t o her
and spoke.
“ Cl ary,” he sai d. “ What you j ust di d —”
“It was wr ong,” she sai d. “I kno w it was wr ong. I was t her e t oo.” She s wi ped at her f ace wit h t he edge of her sl eeve.
“ Go ahead and yell at me.”
Luke st ar ed t hr ough t he wi ndshi el d. “I’ m not goi ng t o yell at you. You di dn’t kno w what was goi ng t o happen. Hell, I
t hought it mi ght work t oo. I woul dn’t have gone wit h you if I hadn’t.”
Cl ary kne w t hi s ought t o have made her f eel bett er, but it di dn’t. “If you hadn’t t hr o wn aci d on t he r une —”
“ But I di d.”
“I di dn’t even kno w you coul d do t hat. Destr oy a r une li ke t hat.”
“If you di sfi gur e it enough, you can mi ni mi ze or destr oy it s po wer. So meti mes i n battl e t he ene my will try t o bur n or
sli ce off a Shado whunt er’ s ski n, j ust t o depri ve t he m of t he po wer of t heir r unes.” Luke sounded di str act ed.
Cl ary f elt her li ps tr e mbl e, and pr essed t he m t oget her, har d, t o st op t he shaki ng. So meti mes she f or got t he mor e
nightmarish aspects of being a Shadowhunter—Thi s lif e of scars and killi ng, as Hodge had sai d t o her once.
“ Well,” she sai d, “I won’t do it agai n.”
“ Won’t do what agai n? Make t hat parti cul ar r une? I have no doubt you won’t, but I’ m not sur e t hat addr esses t he
pr obl e m.” Luke dr u mmed hi s fi ngers on t he st eeri ng wheel. “ You have an abilit y, Cl ary. A gr eat abilit y. But you
have absol ut el y no i dea what it means. You’r e t ot all y untr ai ned. You kno w al most not hi ng about t he hi st ory of
r unes, or what t hey have meant t o Nephili m t hr ough t he cent uri es. You can’t t ell a r une desi gned t o do good fr o m
one designed to do harm.”
“ You wer e happy enough t o l et me use my po wer when it was t he bi ndi ng r une,” she sai d angril y. “ You di dn’t t ell
me not t o cr eat e r unes t hen.”
“I’ m not t elli ng you not t o use your po wer no w. I n f act, I t hi nk t he pr obl e m i s t hat you so r ar el y do use it. It’ s not as if
you’r e usi ng your po wer t o change your nail poli sh col or or make t he sub way co me when you want it. You use it
only in these occasional life-and-death moments.”
“ The r unes onl y co me t o me i n t hose mo ment s.”
“Maybe that’s because you haven’t yet been trained in how your powe rworks. Thi nk of Magnus; hi s po wer i s a
part of hi m. You see m t o t hi nk of yours as separ at e fr o m you. So met hi ng t hat happens t o you. It’ s not. It’ s a t ool
you need t o l ear n t o use.”
“Jace sai d Maryse want s t o hir e a r une expert t o work wit h me, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
“ Yes,” sai d Luke, “I i magi ne Maryse has ot her t hi ngs on her mi nd.” He t ook t he key out of t he i gniti on and sat f or a
mo ment i n sil ence. “ Losi ng a chil d t he way she l ost Max,” he sai d. “I can’t i magi ne it. I shoul d be mor e f or gi vi ng of
her behavi or. If so met hi ng happened t o you, I . . .”
Hi s voi ce tr ail ed off.
“I wi sh Robert woul d co me back fr o m I dri s,” sai d Cl ary. “I don’t see why she has t o deal wit h all t hi s al one. It must
be horrible.”
“Many marriages break up when a child dies. The married couple can’t stop blaming themselves, or each other. I
imagine Robert is gone precisely because he needs space, or Maryse does.”
“ But t hey l ove each ot her,” Cl ary sai d, appall ed. “Isn’t t hat what l ove means? That you’r e supposed t o be t her e f or
t he ot her person t o t ur n t o, no matt er what ?”
Luke l ooked t o war d t he ri ver, at t he dark wat er movi ng sl o wl y under t he li ght of t he aut u mn moon. “ So meti mes,
Cl ary,” he sai d, “l ove j ust i sn’t enough.”
7P
RAETOR LUPUS
The bottl e sli d out of Si mon’ s hand and cr ashed t o t he fl oor, wher e it shatt er ed, sendi ng shar ds fl yi ng i n all
dir ecti ons. “ Kyl e’ s a wer e wolf ?”
“ Of course he’ s a wer e wolf, you mor on,” sai d Jace. He l ooked at Kyl e. “ Ar en’t you?”
Kyle said nothing. The relaxed good humor had gone out of his expression. His hazel eyes were as hard and flat
as glass. “Who’s asking?”
Jace moved a way fr o m t he wi ndo w. Ther e was not hi ng overtl y hostil e i n hi s de meanor, and yet everyt hi ng about
hi m i mpli ed a cl ear t hr eat. Hi s hands wer e l oose at hi s si des, but Si mon r e me mber ed t he way he had seen Jace,
bef or e, expl ode i nt o acti on wit h al most not hi ng, it see med, bet ween t hought and response. “Jace Lightwood,” he
sai d. “ Of t he Li ght wood I nstit ut e. What pack ar e you s wor n t o?”
“Jesus,” sai d Kyl e. “ You’r e a Shado whunt er ?” He l ooked at Si mon. “ The cut e r edheaded girl who was wit h you i n
the garage—she’s a Shadowhunter too, isn’t she?”
Taken aback, Simon nodded.
“ You kno w, so me peopl e t hi nk Shado whunt ers ar e j ust myt hs. Li ke mu mmi es and geni es.” Kyl e gri nned at Jace.
“Can you grant wishes?”
The f act t hat Kyl e had j ust call ed Cl ary cut e di d not see m t o have endear ed hi m t o Jace, whose f ace had
tightened alarmingly. “That depends,” he said. “Do you wish to be punched in the face?”
“ My, my,” sai d Kyl e. “ And I t hought you all wer e so gung ho f or t he Accor ds t hese days —”
“The Accords apply to vamps and lycanthropes with clear alliances,” interrupted Jace. “Tell me what pack you’re
s wor n t o, or I’ll have t o assu me you’r e r ogue.”
“ All ri ght, t hat’ s enough,” Si mon sai d. “ Bot h of you, st op acti ng li ke you’r e about t o hit each ot her.” He l ooked at
Kyl e. “ You shoul d have t ol d me you wer e a wer e wolf.”
“I di dn’t noti ce you t elli ng me you’r e a va mpir e. Maybe I t hought it was none of your busi ness.”
Simon’s whole body jerked with surprise. “What?” He glanced down at the shattered glass and blood on the floor.
“I di dn’t —I don’t —”
“Don’t bother,” Jace said quietly. “He can sense you’re a vampire. Just like you’ll be able to sense werewolves
and ot her Do wnworl ders when you’ ve had a bit mor e pr acti ce. He’ s kno wn what you ar e si nce he met you. Isn’t
t hat tr ue?” He met Kyl e’ s i cy hazel eyes wit h hi s o wn. Kyl e sai d not hi ng. “ And t hat st uff he’ s gr o wi ng on t he
bal cony, by t he by? That’ s wolf sbane. No w you kno w.”
Si mon cr ossed hi s ar ms over hi s chest and gl ar ed at Kyl e. “ So what t hey hell i s t hi s? So me sort of set up? Why
di d you ask me t o li ve wit h you? Wer e wol ves hat e va mpir es.”
“I don’t,” sai d Kyl e. “I’ m not t oo f ond of t heir ki nd, t hough.” He j abbed a fi nger at Jace. “ They t hi nk t hey’r e bett er
than everyone else.”
“ No,” sai d JaceI. t“hink I’m better than everyone else. An opinion that has been backed up with ample evidence.”
Kyl e l ooked at Si mon. “ Does he al ways t al k li ke t hi s?”
“Yes.”
“ Does anyt hi ng shut hi m up? Ot her t han getti ng t he cr ap beat en out of hi m, of course.”
Jace moved a way fr o m t he wi ndo w. “I woulod ve f or you t o try.”
Si mon st epped bet ween t he m. “I’ m not goi ng t o l et you fi ght wit h each ot her.”
“ And what ar e you goi ng t o do about it if . . . Oh.” Jace’ s gaze tr ail ed up t o Si mon’ s f or ehead, and he gri nned
r el uct antl y. “ So basi call y you’r e t hr eat eni ng t o t ur n me i nt o so met hi ng you can spri nkl e on popcor n if I don’t do
what you say?”
Kyl e l ooked baffl ed. “ What ar e you —”
“I j ust t hi nk you t wo shoul d t al k,” Si mon i nt err upt ed. “ So Kyl e’ s a wer e wolf. I’ m a va mpir e. And you’r e not exactl y
t he boy next door eit her,” he added t o Jace. “I say we fi gur e out what’ s goi ng on and pr oceed fr o m t her e.”
“ Your tr usti ng i di ocy kno ws no bounds,” Jace sai d, but he sat do wn on t he wi ndo wsill, cr ossi ng hi s ar ms. Aft er a
mo ment Kyl e sat do wn t oo, on t he f ut on couch. They bot h gl ar ed at each ot her. Still, Si mon t hought. Pr ogr ess.
“ Fi ne,” Kyl e sai d. “I’ m a wer e wolf. I’ m not part of a pack, but I do have an alliance. Have you heard of the Praetor
Lupus?”
“I’ ve hear d of l upus,” sai d Si mon. “Isn’t it a ki nd of di sease?”
Jace gave hi m a wit heri ng l ook. L“‘upus ’ means ‘wolf,’” he explained. “And the praetorians were an elite Roman
milit ary f orce. So I guess t he tr ansl ati on i s ‘ Wolf Guar di ans.’” He shr ugged. “I’ ve r un acr oss menti ons of t he m, but
t hey’r e a pr ett y secr eti ve or gani zati on.”
“ And t he Shado whunt ers ar en’t ?” sai d Kyl e.
“We have good reasons.”
“ So do we.” Kyl e l eaned f or war d. The muscl es i n hi s ar ms fl exed as he pr opped hi s el bo ws on hi s knees. “ Ther e
ar e t wo ki nds of wer e wol ves,” he expl ai ned. “ The ki nd t hat ar e bor n wer e wol ves, wit h wer e wolf par ent s, and t he
ki nd t hat get i nf ect ed wit h l ycant hr opy t hr ough a bit e.” Si mon l ooked at hi m i n sur pri se. He woul dn’t have t hought
Kyl e, sl acker-st oner bi ke messenger, woul d have kno wn t he wor d “l ycant hr opy,” much l ess ho w t o pr onounce it.
But t hi s was a very diff er ent Kyl e —f ocused, i nt ent, and dir ect. “ For t hose of us who ar e t ur ned by a bit e, t hose first
f e w years ar e key. The de mon str ai n t hat causes l ycant hr opy causes a whol e r aft of ot her changes —waves of
uncontr oll abl e aggr essi on, i nabilit y t o contr ol r age, sui ci dal anger and despair. The pack can hel p wit h t hat, but a
l ot of t he ne wl y i nf ect ed ar en’t l ucky enough t o f all i n wit h a pack. They’r e on t heir o wn, tryi ng t o deal wit h all t hi s
over whel mi ng st uff, and a l ot of t he m t ur n vi ol ent —agai nst ot hers or agai nst t he msel ves. Ther e’ s a hi gh sui ci de
r at e and a hi gh r at e of do mesti c vi ol ence.” He l ooked at Si mon. “ The sa me goes f or va mpir es, except it can be
even worse. An or phaned fl edgli ng has lit er all y no i dea what’ s happened t o it. Wit h no gui dance, it doesn’t kno w
ho w t o f eed saf el y, or even t o st ay out of sunli ght. That’ s wher e we co me i n.”
“And do what?” Simon asked.
“We track down ‘orphaned’ Downworlders—vampires and werewolves who’ve just been Turned and don’t know
what t hey ar e yet. So meti mes even warl ocks —so me of t he m don’t r eali ze what t hey ar e f or years. We i nt ervene,
try t o get t he m i nt o a pack or a cl an, try t o hel p t he m contr ol t heir po wers.”
“ Good Sa marit ans, ar en’t you.” Jace’ s eyes glitt er ed.
“ We ar e, act uall y.” Kyl e sounded li ke he was tryi ng t o keep hi s voi ce neutr al. “ We i nt ervene bef or e t he ne w
Do wnworl der can get vi ol ent and hurt t he msel ves or ot her peopl e. I kno w what woul d have happened t o me if it
hadn’t been f or t he Guar d. I’ ve done bad t hi ngs. Reall y bad.”
“How bad?” asked Jace. “Illegal bad?”
“ Shut up, Jace,” sai d Si mon. “ You’r e off dut y, okay? St op bei ng a Shado whunt er f or a second.” He t ur ned t o Kyl e.
“ So ho w di d you end up auditi oni ng f or my cr appy band, t hen?”
“I di dn’t r eali ze you kne w it was cr appy.”
“Just ans wer t he questi on.”
“ We got a r eport of a ne w va mpir e —a Dayli ght er, li vi ng on hi s o wn, not wit h a cl an. Your secr et’ s not as secr et as
you t hi nk. Fl edgli ng va mpir es wit hout a cl an t o hel p t he m can be very danger ous. I got di spat ched t o keep an eye
on you.”
“ So, what you’r e sayi ng,” sai d Si mon, “i s not j ust t hat you don’t want me t o move out no w t hat I kno w you’r e a
wer e wolf, but t hat you won’t l et me move out ?”
“ Ri ght,” sai d Kyl e. “I mean, you can move out, but I’ll co me wit h you.”
“ That’ s not necessary,” sai d Jace. “I can keep a perf ectl y good eye on Si mon, t hank you. He’ s my neophyte
Do wnworl der t o mock and boss ar ound, not yours.”
“ Shut up!” Si mon yell ed. “ Bot h of you. Neit her of you wer e ar ound when so meone tri ed t o kill me earli er t oday —”
“I was,” sai d Jace. “ You kno w, event uall y.”
Kyl e’ s eyes shone, li ke a wolf’ s eyes at ni ght. “ So meone tri ed t o kill you? What happened?”
Si mon’ s gaze met Jace’ s acr oss t he r oo m. A sil ent agr ee ment not t o menti on t he Mark of Cai n passed bet ween
t he m. “ Two days ago, and t oday, I was f oll o wed and att acked by so me guys i n gr ay tr acksuit s.”
“Humans?”
“ We’r e not sur e.”
“ And you have no i dea what t hey want wit h you?”
“ They defi nit el y want me dead,” sai d Si mon. “ Beyond t hat, I don’t r eall y kno w, no.”
“We have some leads,” said Jace. “We’ll be investigating.”
Kyl e shook hi s head. “ Fi ne. What ever it i s you’r e not t elli ng me, I’ll fi nd out event uall y.” He got t o hi s f eet. “ And no w,
I’ m beat. I’ m goi ng t o sl eep. I’ll see you i n t he mor ni ng,” he sai d t o Si mon. “ You,” he sai d t o Jace, “ well, I guess I’ll
see you ar ound. You’r e t he first Shado whunt er I’ ve ever met.”
“ That’ s t oo bad,” sai d Jace, “si nce all t he ones you meet fr o m no w on will be a t erri bl e l et do wn.”
Kyle rolled his eyes and left, banging his bedroom door shut behind him.
Si mon l ooked at Jace. “ You’r e not goi ng back t o t he I nstit ut e,” he sai d, “ ar e you?”
Jace shook hi s head. “ You need pr ot ecti ng. Who kno ws when so meone mi ght try t o kill you agai n?”
“ Thi s avoi di ng Cl ary t hi ng of yours has tr ul y t aken an epi c t ur n,” Si mon sai d, st andi ng up. “ Ar e you ever goi ng
home?”
Jace l ooked at hi m. “ Ar e you?”
Si mon st al ked i nt o t he kit chen, r etri eved a br oo m, and s wept up t he br oken gl ass fr o m t he s mashed bottl e. It had
been hi s l ast. He du mped t he shar ds i nt o t he tr ash and wal ked past Jace i nt o hi s o wn s mall bedr oo m, wher e he
stri pped off hi s j acket and shoes and fl ung hi mself do wn ont o t he mattr ess.
A mo ment l at er Jace ca me i nt o t he r oo m. He l ooked ar ound, hi s li ght eyebr o ws r ai sed, hi s expr essi on a mask of
a muse ment. “ Quit e a space you’ ve got her e. Mi ni mali st. I li ke it.”
Si mon r oll ed ont o hi s si de and st ar ed at Jace i n di sbeli ef. “ Pl ease t ell me you’r e not act uall y pl anni ng on st ayi ng i n
my r oo m.”
Jace perched on the windowsill and looked down at him. “You really don’t get this bodyguard thing, do you?”
“I di dn’t even t hi nk you li ked me all t hat much,” sai d Si mon. “Is t hi s one of t hose keep-your-fri ends-cl ose- and-yourenemies-
closer things?”
“I t hought it was keep your fri ends cl ose so you have so meone t o dri ve t he car when you sneak over t o your
ene my’ s house at ni ght and t hr o w up i n hi s mail box.”
“I’ m pr ett y sur e t hat’ s not it. And t hi s pr ot ecti ng me t hi ng i s l ess t ouchi ng t han cr eepy, j ust so you kno w. I’fim ne.
You’ ve seen what happens if so meone tri es t o hurt me.”
“ Yes, I have,” sai d Jace. “ But event uall y t he person who’ s tryi ng t o kill you i s goi ng t o fi gur e out about t he Mark of
Cai n. And t hen t hey’r e eit her goi ng t o gi ve up or fi nd so me ot her way t o co me at you.” He l eaned agai nst t he
wi ndo w fr a me. “ And t hat’ s why I’ m her e.”
Despit e hi s exasper ati on Si mon coul d fi nd no hol es i n t hi s ar gu ment, or at l east not one bi g enough t o bot her wit h.
He r oll ed ont o hi s st o mach and buri ed hi s f ace i n hi s ar ms. Wit hi n mi nut es he was asl eep.
He was wal ki ng t hr ough t he desert, over bur ni ng sands, past bones whit eni ng i n t he sun. He had never been so
t hirst y. When he s wall o wed, hi s mout h f elt as if it wer e coat ed wit h sand, hi s t hr oat li ned wit h kni ves.
The shar p buzzi ng of hi s cell phone woke Si mon. He r oll ed over and cl a wed tir edl y at hi s j acket. By t he ti me he’ d
pried the cell phone loose from the pocket, it had stopped ringing.
He turned it over and looked to see who had called. It was Luke.
Cr ap. I bet my mo m call ed Cl ary’ s house l ooki ng f or me, he t hought, sitti ng up. Hi s br ai n was still f uzzy fr o m sl eep,
and it t ook a mo ment f or hi m t o r e me mber t hat when he had f all en asl eep i n t hi s r oo m, he hadn’t been al one.
He l ooked qui ckl y t o war d t he wi ndo w. Jace was still t her e, but he was cl earl y asl eep —sitti ng up, hi s head l eani ng
agai nst t he wi ndo w gl ass. Pal e bl ue da wn li ght filt er ed past hi m. He l ooked very young li ke t hat, Si mon t hought.
No mockery i n hi s expr essi on, no def ensi veness or sarcas m. It was al most possi bl e t o i magi ne what Cl ary sa w i n
hi m.
It was pr ett y cl ear he wasn’t t aki ng hi s bodyguar d duti es all t hat seri ousl y, but t hat had been obvi ous fr o m t he
begi nni ng. Si mon wonder ed, not f or t he first ti me, what t he hell was goi ng on bet ween Cl ary and Jace.
The phone st art ed buzzi ng agai n. Pr opelli ng hi mself t o hi s f eet, Si mon padded out i nt o t he li vi ng r oo m, pr essi ng
t he t al k butt on j ust bef or e t he call went t o voi ce mail agai n. “ Luke?”
“ Sorry t o wake you up, Si mon.” Luke was, as al ways, unf aili ngl y polit e.
“I was a wake any way,” Si mon li ed.
“I need you t o meet me i n Washi ngt on Squar e Park i n half an hour,” sai d Luke. “ At t he f ount ai n.”
No w Si mon was seri ousl y al ar med. “Is everyt hi ng okay? Is Cl ary all ri ght ?”
“ She’ s fi ne. Thi s i sn’t about her.” Ther e was a r u mbli ng sound i n t he backgr ound. Si mon guessed t hat Luke was
st arti ng up hi s tr uck. “Just meet me i n t he park. And don’t bri ng anyone wit h you.”
He cli cked off.
The sound of Luke’ s tr uck pulli ng out of t he dri ve way woke Cl ary out of uneasy dr ea ms. She sat up, and wi nced.
The chai n ar ound her neck had gott en caught i n her hair whil e she sl ept, and she dr e w it off over her head,
car ef ull y pulli ng it fr ee of t he t angl es.
She dr opped t he ri ng i nt o her pal m, t he chai n pooli ng ar ound it. The littl e sil ver circl et, st a mped wit h it s patt er n of
st ars, see med t o wi nk up at her mocki ngl y. She r e me mber ed when Jace had gi ven it t o her, wr apped i n t he not e
he’ d l eft behi nd when he’ d gone off t o hunt do wn Jonat han. Despit e everyt hi ng, I can’t bear t he t hought of t hi s ri ng
bei ng l ost f or ever, any mor e t han I can bear t he t hought of l eavi ng you f or ever.
That had been al most t wo mont hs ago. She had been sur e t hat he l oved her, so sur e t hat t he Queen of t he Seeli e
Court had not been abl e t o t e mpt her. Ho w coul d t her e be anyt hi ng el se she want ed, when she had Jace?
But maybe you never r eall y had so meone, she t hought no w. Maybe, no matt er ho w much you l oved t he m, t hey
coul d sli p t hr ough your fi ngers li ke wat er, and t her e was not hi ng you coul d do about it. She underst ood why peopl e
t al ked about heart s “ br eaki ng”; she f elt as if hers wer e made of cr acked gl ass, and t he shar ds wer e li ke ti ny
kni ves i nsi de her chest when she br eat hed. I magi ne your lif e wit hout hi m, t he Seeli e Queen had sai d —
The phone r ang, and f or a mo ment Cl ary f elt onl y r eli eved t hat so met hi ng, anyt hi ng, had cut t hr ough her mi sery.
Her second t hought was, Jace. Maybe he coul dn’t r each her on her cell phone and was calli ng her house. She
dr opped t he ri ng on her bedsi de t abl e and r eached t o lift t he r ecei ver out of it s cr adl e. She was about t o voi ce a
greeting when she realized that the phone had already been picked up, by her mother.
“Hello?” Her mother sounded anxious, and surprisingly awake for so early in the morning.
The voi ce t hat ans wer ed was unf a mili ar, f ai ntl y accent ed. “ Thi s i s Cat ari na fr o m Bet h Isr ael hospit al. I’ m l ooki ng
f or Jocel yn.”
Clary froze. The hospital? Had something happened, maybe to Luke? He had pulled out of the driveway awfully
f ast —
“ Thi s i s Jocel yn.” Her mot her di dn’t sound fri ght ened, but r at her as if she’ d expect ed t he call. “ Thank you f or calli ng
me back so soon.”
“ Of course. I was gl ad t o hear fr o m you. You don’t oft en see people recover from a curse like the one you were
suff eri ng fr o m.” Ri ght, Cl ary t hought. Her mot her had been i n Bet h Isr ael, co mat ose fr o m t he eff ect s of t he poti on
she’ d t aken t o pr event Val enti ne fr o m i nt err ogati ng her. “ And any fri end of Magnus Bane’ s i s a fri end of mi ne.”
Jocelyn sounded strained. “Did my message make sense? You know what I was calling about?”
“ You want ed t o kno w about t he chil d,” sai d t he wo man on t he ot her end of t he li ne. Cl ary kne w she ought t o hang
up, but she coul dn’t. What chil d? What was goi ng on? “ The one who was abandoned.”
Ther e was a cat ch i n Jocel yn’ s voi ce. “ Y-yes. I t hought —”
“I’ m sorry t o say t hi s, but he’ s dead. He di ed l ast ni ght.”
For a mo ment Jocel yn was sil ent. Cl ary coul d f eel her mot her’ s shock t hr ough t he phone li ne. “ Di ed? Ho w?”
“I’ m not sur e I underst and it myself. The pri est ca me l ast ni ght t o bapti ze t he chil d, and —”
“ Oh, my God.” Jocel yn’ s voi ce shook. “ Can I —Coul d I pl ease co me do wn and l ook at t he body?”
Ther e was a l ong sil ence. Fi nall y t he nurse sai d, “I’ m not sur e about t hat. The body’ s i n t he mor gue no w, a waiti ng
tr ansf er t o t he medi cal exa mi ner’ s offi ce.”
“ Cat ari na, I t hi nk I kno w what happened t o t he boy.” Jocel yn sounded br eat hl ess. “ And if I coul d confir m it, maybe I
could prevent it from happening again.”
“Jocelyn—”
“I’ m co mi ng do wn,” Cl ary’ s mot her sai d, and hung up t he phone. Cl ary gazed bl ankl y at t he r ecei ver f or a mo ment
bef or e hangi ng up herself. She scr a mbl ed t o her f eet, r an a br ush t hr ough her hair, t ossed on j eans and a s weat er,
and was out her bedr oo m door j ust i n ti me t o cat ch her mot her i n t he li vi ng r oo m, scri bbli ng a not e on t he pad of
paper by t he t el ephone. She l ooked up as Cl ary ca me i n, and gave a guilt y st art.
“I was j ust r unni ng out,” she sai d. “ A f e w l ast- mi nut e weddi ng t hi ngs have co me up, and —”
“ Don’t bot her l yi ng t o me,” Cl ary sai d wit hout pr ea mbl e. “I was li st eni ng on t he phone, and I kno w exactl y wher e
you’re going.”
Jocel yn pal ed. Sl o wl y she set her pen do wn. “ Cl ary —”
“ You have t o st op tryi ng t o pr ot ect me,” Cl ary sai d. “I bet you di dn’t say anyt hi ng t o Luke, eit her, about calli ng t he
hospit al.”
Jocel yn pushed her hair back nervousl y. “It see ms unf air on hi m. Wit h t he weddi ng co mi ng up and everyt hi ng —”
“ Ri ght. The weddi ng. You’r e havi ng a weddi ng. And why i s t hat ? Because you’r e getti ng marri ed. Don’t you t hi nk
it’ s ti me you st art ed tr usti ng Luke? And tr usti ng me?”
“I do tr ust you,” Jocel yn sai d softl y.
“I n t hat case you won’t mi nd me co mi ng wit h you t o t he hospit al.”
“ Cl ary, I don’t t hi nk —”
“I kno w what you t hi nk. You t hi nk t hi s i s j ust li ke what happened t o Sebasti an —I mean Jonat han. You t hi nk maybe
someone’s out there doing to babies what Valentine did to my brother.”
Jocel yn’ s voi ce shook sli ghtl y. “ Val enti ne’ s dead. But t her e ar e ot hers who wer e i n t he Circl e who have never
been caught.”
And they never found Jonathan’s body . It wasn’t so met hi ng Cl ary li ked t o t hi nk about. Besi des, Isabell e had been
there and had always been adamant that Jace had severed Jonat han’ s spi ne wit h t he bl ade of a dagger and t hat
Jonat han had been quit e, quit e dead as a r esult. She had gone do wn i nt o t he wat er and checked, she’ d sai d.
There had been no pulse, no heartbeat.
“ Mo m,” Cl ary sai d. “ He was my brothe. rI have a ri ght t o co me wit h you.”
Very slowly Jocelyn nodded. “You’re right. I suppose you do.” She reached for her purse where it hung on a peg by
t he door. “ Well, co me on, t hen, and get your coat. The weat her f or ecast says it mi ght r ai n.”
Washington Square Park in the early morning was mostly deserted. The air was crisp and morning-clean, the
leaves already thickly covering the pavement in sheets of red, gold, and dark green. Simon kicked them aside as
he made hi s way under t he st one archway at t he sout h end of t he park.
There were few other people around—a couple of homeless men sleeping on benches, wrapped in sleeping bags
or t hr eadbar e bl anket s, and so me guys i n gr een sanit ati on unif or ms e mpt yi ng t he tr ash cans. Ther e was a guy
pushi ng a cart t hr ough t he park, selli ng doughnut s and coff ee and pr e-sli ced bagel s. And i n t he cent er of t he park,
by the big circular stone fountain, was Luke. He was wearing a green zip-up Windbreaker and waved when he
saw Simon.
Si mon waved back, a littl e t ent ati vel y. He still wasn’t sur e he wasn’t i n so me ki nd of tr oubl e. Luke’ s expr essi on, as
Si mon dr e w cl oser, onl y i nt ensifi ed Si mon’ s f or ebodi ng. Luke l ooked tir ed and mor e t han a littl e str essed out. Hi s
gaze, as it f ell on Si mon, was f ull of concer n.
“ Si mon,” he sai d. “ Thanks f or co mi ng.”
“ Sur e.” Si mon wasn’t col d, but he st uck hi s hands i nt o t he pocket s of hi s j acket any way, j ust t o gi ve t he m
so met hi ng t o do. “ What’ s wr ong?”
“I di dn’t say anyt hi ng was wr ong.”
“ You woul dn’t dr ag me out her e at t he cr ack of da wn if not hi ng was wr ong,” Si mon poi nt ed out. “If it i sn’t about
Cl ary, t hen . . . ?”
“ Yest er day, i n t he bri dal shop,” Luke sai d. “ You asked me about so meone. Ca mill e.”
A fl ock of bir ds r ose, ca wi ng, fr o m t he near by tr ees. Si mon r e me mber ed a r hy me hi s mot her used t o r ecit e t o hi m,
about magpi es. You wer e supposed t o count t he m and say: One f or sorr o w, t wo f or mirt h, t hr ee f or a weddi ng, f our
f or a birt h; fi ve f or sil ver, si x f or gol d, seven f or a secr et t hat’ s never been t ol d .
“ Ri ght,” Si mon sai d. He had alr eady l ost count of t he nu mber of bir ds t her e wer e. Seven, he guessed. A secr et
t hat’ s never been t ol d. What ever t hat was.
“ You kno w about t he Shado whunt ers who have been f ound mur der ed ar ound t he cit y t hi s past week or so,” Luke
sai d. “ Don’t you?”
Simon nodded slowly. He had a bad feeling about where this was going.
“It seems Camille may be responsible,” said Luke. “I couldn’t help but remember you had asked about her.
Heari ng her na me t wi ce, i n a si ngl e day, aft er years of never heari ng it at all —it see med li ke quit e a coi nci dence.”
“Coincidences happen.”
“ On occasi on,” sai d Luke, “ but t hey ar e r ar el y t he most li kel y ans wer. Toni ght Maryse will be su mmoni ng Raphael
t o i nt err ogat e hi m about Ca mill e’ s r ol e i n t hese mur ders. If it co mes out t hat you kne w so met hi ng about Ca mill e —
t hat you’ ve had cont act wit h her —I don’t want you t o be bli ndsi ded, Si mon.”
“That makes two of us.” Simon’s head had started pounding again. Were vampires even supposed to get
headaches? He coul dn’t r e me mber t he l ast ti me he’ d had one, bef or e t he event s of t hese past f e w days. “I met
Ca mill e,” he sai d. “ About f our days ago. I t hought I was bei ng su mmoned by Raphael, but it t ur ned out t o be her.
She off er ed t o make me a deal. If I ca me t o work f or her, she’ d make me t he second most i mport ant va mpir e i n
t he cit y.”
“ Why di d she want you t o work f or her ?” Luke’ s t one was neutr al.
“ She kno ws about my Mark,” Si mon sai d. “ She sai d Raphael betr ayed her and she coul d use me t o get back
contr ol of t he cl an. I got t he f eeli ng she wasn’t enor mousl y f ond of Raphael.”
“ That’ s very curi ous,” sai d Luke. “ The st ory as I’ ve hear d it i s t hat Ca mill e t ook an i ndefi nit e l eave of absence fr o m
heading up the clan about a year ago and made Raphael her temporary successor. If she chose him to lead in her
place, why would she move against him?”
Si mon shr ugged. “I don’t kno w. I’ m j ust t elli ng you what she sai d.”
“ Why di dn’t you t ell us about her, Si mon?” Luke sai d very qui etl y.
“ She t ol d me not t o.” Si mon r eali zed ho w st upi d t hi s sounded. “I’ ve never met a va mpir e li ke her bef or e,” he
added. “Just Raphael, and t he ot hers at t he Du mont. It’ s har d t o expl ai n what she was li ke. Everyt hi ng she sai d,
you want ed t o beli eve. Everyt hi ng she asked you t o do, you want ed t o do. I want ed t o pl ease her even t hough I
kne w she was j ust messi ng ar ound wit h me.”
The man wit h t he coff ee and doughnut cart was passi ng by agai n. Luke bought coff ee and a bagel and sat do wn
on t he edge of t he f ount ai n. Aft er a mo ment Si mon j oi ned hi m.
“ The man who gave me Ca mill e’ s na me call ed her ‘t he anci ent one,’” Luke sai d. “ She i s, I t hi nk, one of t he very,
very ol d va mpir es of t hi s worl d. I i magi ne she woul d make most peopl e f eel f airl y s mall.”
“ She made me f eel li ke a bug,” Si mon sai d. “ She di d pr o mi se t hat if i n fi ve days I di dn’t want t o work f or her, she’ d
never bot her me agai n. So I t ol d her I’ d t hi nk about it.”
“ And have you? Thought about it ?”
“If she’ s killi ng Shado whunt ers, I don’t want anyt hi ng t o do wit h her,” sai d Si mon. “I can t ell you t hat much.”
“I’ m sur e Maryse will be r eli eved t o hear it.”
“ No w you’r e j ust bei ng sarcasti c.”
“I a m not,” sai d Luke, l ooki ng very seri ous. It was at mo ment s li ke t hi s t hat Si mon coul d put asi de hi s me mori es of
Luke —Cl ary’ s sort- of st epf at her, t he guy who was al ways ar ound, who was al ways willi ng t o gi ve you a ri de ho me
fr o m school or l end you t en bucks f or a book or a movi e ti cket —and r e me mber t hat Luke l ed t he bi ggest wolf
pack i n t he cit y, t hat he was so meone t o who m, at cr uci al ti mes, t he whol e Cl ave had li st ened. “ You f or get what
you ar e, Si mon. You f or get t he po wer you have.”
“I wi sh I coul d f or get it,” Si mon sai d bitt erl y. “I wi sh if I di dn’t use it, it woul d j ust go a way.”
Luke shook hi s head. “ Po wer i s a magnet. It dr a ws t hose who desir e it. Ca mill e i s one of t he m, but t her e will be
ot hers. We’ ve been l ucky, i n a way, t hat it’ s t aken t hi s l ong.” He l ooked at Si mon. “ Do you t hi nk t hat if she
su mmons you agai n, you coul d get wor d t o me, or t o t he Concl ave, l etti ng us kno w wher e t o fi nd her ?”
“ Yes,” Si mon sai d sl o wl y. “ She gave me a way t o cont act her. But it’ s not li ke she’ s j ust goi ng t o sho w up if I bl o w a
magi c whi stl e. Last ti me she want ed t o t al k t o me, she had her mi ni ons sur pri se me and t hen bri ng me t o her. So
j ust havi ng peopl e hang ar ound wit h me whil e I try t o cont act her i sn’t goi ng t o work. Ot her wi se you’ll get her
subj ugat es, but you won’t get her.”
“ Hmm.” Luke l ooked consi deri ng. “ We’ll have t o t hi nk of so met hi ng cl ever, t hen.”
“ Bett er t hi nk f ast. She sai d she’ d gi ve me fi ve days, so t hat means by t o morr o w she’ s goi ng t o expect so me ki nd
of si gnal fr o m me.”
“I i magi ne she will,” sai d Luke. “I n f act, I’ m counti ng on it.”
Si mon opened t he fr ont door of Kyl e’ s apart ment cauti ousl y. “ Hey t her e,” he call ed, co mi ng i nt o t he entry way and
hanging up his jacket. “Is anyone home?”
No one answered, but from the living room Simon could hear the familiar zap-bang-crash sounds of a video game
bei ng pl ayed. He headed i nt o t he r oo m, hol di ng i n fr ont of hi m li ke a peace off eri ng t he whit e bag of bagel s he’ d
pi cked up fr o m Bagel Zone on Avenue A. “I br ought br eakf ast. . . .”
His voice trailed off. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected would happen when his self-appointed bodyguards
r eali zed he’ d sneaked out of t he apart ment behi nd t heir backs. It had defi nit el y i nvol ved so me f or m of t he phr ase
“ Try t hat agai n, and I’ll kill you.” What it hadn’t i nvol ved was Kyl e and Jace sitti ng on t he f ut on couch si de by si de,
l ooki ng f or all t he worl d li ke ne wl y mi nt ed best fri ends. Kyl e had a vi deo ga me contr oll er i n hi s hands, and Jace
was l eani ng f or war d, hi s el bo ws on hi s knees, wat chi ng i nt entl y. They bar el y see med t o noti ce Si mon’ s entr ance.
“ That guy over t her e i n t he cor ner i s t ot all y l ooki ng t he ot her way,” Jace observed, poi nti ng at t he TV scr een. “ A
spi nni ng wheel ki ck woul d put hi m out of co mmi ssi on.”
“I can’t ki ck peopl e i n t hi s ga me. I can onl y shoot t he m. See?” Kyl e mashed so me butt ons.
“ That’ s st upi d.” Jace l ooked over and see med t o see Si mon f or t he first ti me. “ Back fr o m your br eakf ast meeti ng, I
see,” he sai d wit hout much wel co me i n hi s t one. “I bet you t hought you wer e very cl ever, sneaki ng off li ke t hat.”
“Medium clever,” Simon acknowledged. “Like a cross between George Clooney in Ocean’s Eleven and t hose
MythBusters guys, but, you kno w, bett er-l ooki ng.”
“I’ m al ways so gl ad I have no i dea what you’r e vacantl y chatt eri ng about,” sai d Jace. “It fill s me wit h a sense of
peace and well-being.”
Kyl e set hi s contr oll er do wn, l eavi ng t he scr een fr ozen on a cl ose- up of an enor mous needl e-ti pped gun. “I’ll t ake a
bagel.”
Si mon t ossed hi m one, and Kyl e headed i nt o t he kit chen, whi ch was separ at ed fr o m t he li vi ng r oo m by a l ong
count er, t o t oast and butt er hi s br eakf ast. Jace l ooked at t he whit e bag and waved a di s mi ssi ve hand. “ No,
thanks.”
Si mon sat do wn on t he coff ee t abl e. “ You ought t o eat so met hi ng.”
“Look who’s talking.”
“I’ m out of bl ood ri ght no w,” Si mon sai d. “ Unl ess you’r e off eri ng.”
“ No, t hanks. We’ ve been do wn t hat r oad bef or e, and I t hi nk we’r e bett er off as j ust fri ends.” Jace’ s t one was as
li ghtl y sarcasti c as ever, but t hi s cl ose up, Si mon coul d see ho w pal e he l ooked, and t hat hi s eyes wer e ri nged
wit h gr ay shado ws. The bones of hi s f ace see med t o be sti cki ng out mor e pr o mi nentl y t han t hey had bef or e.
“ Reall y,” Si mon sai d, pushi ng t he bag acr oss t he t abl e t o war d Jace. “ You shoul d eat so met hi ng. I’ m not ki ddi ng.”
Jace gl anced do wn at t he bag of f ood, and wi nced. The li ds of hi s eyes wer e gr ayi sh bl ue wit h exhausti on. “ The
t hought makes me si ck, t o be honest.”
“ You f ell asl eep l ast ni ght,” Si mon sai d. “ When you wer e supposed t o be guar di ng me. I kno w t hi s bodyguar d t hi ng
i s mostl y a j oke t o you, but still. Ho w l ong has it been si nce you sl ept ?”
“ As i n, t hr ough t he ni ght ?” Jace consi der ed. “ Two weeks. Maybe t hr ee.”
Si mon’ s mout h opened. “ Why? I mean, what’ s goi ng on?”
Jace off er ed t he ghost of a s mil e. “‘I coul d be bounded i n a nut shell and count myself a ki ng of i nfi nit e space,
wer e it not t hat I have bad dr ea ms.’”
“I act uall y kno w t hat one. Ha ml et . So you’re saying you can’t sleep because you’re having nightmares?”
“ Va mpir e,” sai d Jace, wit h a tir ed cert ai nt y, “you have no i dea.”
“ Hey.” Kyl e ca me back ar ound t he count er and fl ung hi mself do wn i n t he nubby ar mchair. He t ook a bit e out of hi s
bagel. “What’s going on?”
“I went t o meet Luke,” Si mon sai d, and expl ai ned what had happened, seei ng no r eason t o hi de it. He l eft out any
menti on of Ca mill e wanti ng hi m not j ust because he was a Dayli ght er, but al so because of t he Mark of Cai n. Kyl e
nodded when he was done. “ Luke Garr o way. He’ s t he head of t he do wnt o wn pack. I’ ve hear d of hi m. He’ s ki nd of
a bi g shot.”
“ Hi s r eal na me i sn’t Garr o way,” sai d Jace. “ He used t o be a Shado whunt er.”
“ Ri ght. I hear d t hat, t oo. And no w he’ s been i nstr u ment al wit h all t he ne w Accor ds st uff.” Kyl e gl anced at Si mon.
“You know some important people.”
“I mport ant peopl e ar e a l ot of tr oubl e,” Si mon sai d. “ Ca mill e, f or i nst ance.”
“ Once Luke t ell s Maryse what’ s goi ng on, t he Cl ave will t ake car e of her,” sai d Jace. “ Ther e ar e pr ot ocol s f or
deali ng wit h r ogue Do wnworl ders.” At t hat, Kyl e l ooked at hi m si de ways, but Jace di dn’t see m t o noti ce. “I alr eady
t ol d you I don’t t hi nk she’ s t he one tryi ng t o kill you. She kno ws —” Jace br oke off. “ She kno ws bett er t han t hat.”
“ And besi des, she want s t o use you,” Kyl e sai d.
“ Good poi nt,” sai d Jace. “ No one’ s goi ng t o off a val uabl e r esource.”
Si mon l ooked fr o m one of t he m t o t he ot her, and shook hi s head. “ When di d you t wo get so buddy- buddy? Last
ni ght it was all, ‘I’ m t he most elit e warri or!’ ‘ No, I’ m t he most elit e warri or!’ And t oday you’r e pl ayi ng Hal o and
giving each other props for good ideas.”
“ We r eali zed we have so met hi ng i n co mmon,” sai d Jace. “ You annoy us bot h.”
“I n t hat vei n, I had a t hought,” Si mon sai d. “I don’t t hi nk eit her of you ar e goi ng t o li ke it, t hough.”
Kyl e r ai sed hi s eyebr o ws. “ Let’ s hear it.”
“ The pr obl e m wit h you guys wat chi ng me all t he ti me,” Si mon sai d, “i s t hat if you do, t he guys tryi ng t o kill me won’t
try it agai n, and if t hey don’t try it agai n, t hen we won’t kno w who t hey ar e, and pl us, you’ll have t o wat ch me all t he
ti me. And I assu me you have ot her t hi ngs you’ d r at her be doi ng. Well,” he added i n Jace’ s dir ecti on, “ possi blyyo u
don’t.”
“So?” said Kyle. “What’s your suggestion?”
“ We l ur e t he m out. Get t he m t o att ack agai n. Try t o capt ur e one of t he m and fi nd out who sent t he m.”
“If I r ecall,” sai d Jace, “I had t hi s i dea t he ot her day, and you di dn’t li ke it much.”
“I was tir ed,” Si mon sai d. “ But no w I’ ve been t hi nki ng. And so f ar, i n my experi ence wit h evil doers, t hey don’t go
a way j ust because you i gnor e t he m. They keep on co mi ng i n diff er ent ways. So eit her I make t hese guys co me t o
me, or I spend f or ever waiti ng f or t he m t o att ack agai n.”
“I’ m i n,” Jace sai d, t hough Kyl e still l ooked dubi ous. “ So do you j ust want t o go out and wander ar ound until t hey
show up again?”
“I t hought I’ d make it easy f or t he m. Sho w up so me wher e everyone kno ws I’ m supposed t o be.”
“ You mean . . . ?” sai d Kyl e.
Si mon poi nt ed t o t he fl yer t aped t o t he fri dge. MI LL ENNI UM LI NT, OCT OBER 16, THE ALT O BAR, BROOKLYN.
9 P. M. “I mean t he gi g. Why not ?” Hi s headache was still t her e, f ull f orce; he pushed it back, tryi ng not t o t hi nk
about ho w exhaust ed he was, or ho w he’ d push hi mself t hr ough t he gi g. He had t o get mor e bl ood so meho w. Had
t o.
Jace’ s eyes wer e shi ni ng. “ You kno w, t hat’ s act uall y a pr ett y good i dea t her e, va mpir e.”
“ You want t he m t o att ack you onstage?” Kyle asked.
“It’ll make f or an exciti ng sho w,” sai d Si mon, wit h mor e br avado t han he r eall y f elt. The i dea of bei ng att acked one
mor e ti me was al most mor e t han he coul d st and, even if he di dn’t f ear f or hi s personal saf et y. He wasn’t sur e he
coul d bear t o wat ch t he Mark of Cai n do it s work agai n.
Jace shook hi s head. “ They don’t att ack i n publi c. They’ll wait till aft er t he sho w. And we’ll be t her e t o deal wit h
t he m.”
Kyl e shook hi s head. “I don’t kno w . . .”
They went a f e w mor e r ounds, Jace and Si mon on one si de of t he ar gu ment and Kyl e on t he ot her. Si mon f elt a
littl e guilt y. If Kyl e kne w about t he Mark, he’ d be a l ot easi er t o persuade. Event uall y he cr acked under t he
pr essur e and r el uct antl y agr eed t o what he conti nued t o i nsi st was “ a st upi d pl an.”
“ But,” he sai d fi nall y, getti ng t o hi s f eet and br ushi ng bagel cr u mbs off hi s shirt, “I’ m onl y doi ng t hi s because I
r eali ze t hat you’ll bot h j ust do it whet her I agr ee or not. So I mi ght as well be t her e.” He l ooked at Si mon. “ Who
would have thought protecting you from yourself would be so hard?”
“I coul d have t ol d you t hat,” Jace sai d, as Kyl e t hr e w a j acket on and headed t o t he door. He had t o work, he’ d
explained to them. It appeared he really was a bike messenger; the Praetor Lupus, despite having a badass
na me, di dn’t pay t hat well. The door cl osed behi nd hi m, and Jace t ur ned back t o Si mon. “ So, t he gi g’ s at ni ne,
ri ght ? What do we do wit h t he r est of t he day?”
“ We?” Si mon l ooked at hi m i n di sbeli ef. “ Ar e you ever going home?”
“What, bored with my company already?”
“ Let me ask you so met hi ng,” Si mon sai d. “ Do you fi nd me f asci nati ng t o be ar ound?”
“ What was t hat ?” Jace sai d. “ Sorry, I t hi nk I f ell asl eep f or a mo ment. Do, conti nue wit h what ever mes meri zi ng
thing you were saying.”
“ St op it,” Si mon sai d. “ St op bei ng sarcasti c f or a second. You’r e not eati ng, you’r e not sl eepi ng. You kno w who
el se i sn’t ? Cl ary. I don’t kno w what’ s goi ng on wit h you and her, because fr ankl y she hasn’t sai d anyt hi ng about it. I
assu me she doesn’t want t o t al k about it eit her. But it’ s pr ett y obvi ous you’r e havi ng a fi ght. And if you’r e goi ng t o
break up with her—”
“ Br eak up wit h her ?” Jace st ar ed at hi m. “ Ar e you i nsane?”
“If you keep avoi di ng her,” Si mon sai d, “she’ s goi ng t o br eak up wityho u .”
Jace got t o hi s f eet. Hi s easy r el axati on was gone; he was all t ensi on no w, li ke a pr o wli ng cat. He went t o t he
wi ndo w and t wit ched t he curt ai n back r estl essl y; t he l at e- mor ni ng li ght ca me t hr ough t he gap, bl eachi ng t he col or
i n hi s eyes. “I have r easons f or t he t hi ngs I do,” he sai d fi nall y.
“ Gr eat,” Si mon sai d. “ Does Cl ary kno w t he m?”
Jace said nothing.
“ All she does i s l ove you and tr ust you,” sai d Si mon. “ You o we her —”
“ Ther e ar e mor e i mport ant t hi ngs t han honest y,” sai d Jace. “ You t hi nk I li ke hurti ng her ? You t hi nk I li ke kno wi ng
t hat I’ m maki ng her angry, maybe maki ng her hat e me? Why do you t hi nk I’ hm ere ?” He l ooked at Si mon wit h a
bl eak sort of r age. “I can’t be wit h her,” he sai d. “ And if I can’t be wit h her, it doesn’t r eall y matt er t o me wher e I a m.
I mi ght as well be wit h you, because at l east if she kne w I was tryi ng t o pr ot ect you, t hat mi ght make her happy.”
“ So you’r e tryi ng t o make her happy despit e t he f act t hat t he r eason she’ s unhappy i n t he first pl ace i s you,” sai d
Si mon, not very ki ndl y. “ That see ms contr adi ct ory, doesn’t it ?”
“ Love i s a contr adi cti on,” sai d Jace, and t ur ned back t o t he wi ndo w.
8W
ALK I N DARKNESS
Cl ar y had f or gott en ho w much she hat ed t he s mell of hospit al s until t hey wal ked t hr ough t he fr ont doors of
Bet h Isr ael. St erilit y, met al, ol d coff ee, and not enough bl each t o cover up t he st ench of si ckness and mi sery. The
me mory of her mot her’ s ill ness, of Jocel yn l yi ng unconsci ous and unr esponsi ve i n her nest of t ubes and wir es, hit
her li ke a sl ap i n t he f ace, and she sucked i n a br eat h, tryi ng not t o t ast e t he air.
“ Ar e you all ri ght ?” Jocel yn pull ed t he hood of her coat do wn and l ooked at Cl ary, her gr een eyes anxi ous.
Clary nodded, hunching her shoulders into her jacket, and looked around. The lobby was all cold marble, metal,
and plastic. There was a big information desk behind which several women, probably nurses, were milling; signs
poi nt ed t he way t o t he I CU, Radi ati on, Sur gi cal Oncol ogy, Pedi atri cs, and so on. She coul d pr obabl y have f ound
t he caf et eri a i n her sl eep; she’ d br ought Luke enough t epi d cups of coff ee fr o m t her e t o fill t he Centr al Park
r eser voir.
“ Excuse me.” A sl ender nurse pushi ng an ol d man i n a wheel chair went past t he m, nearl y r olli ng t he wheel s over
Cl ary’ s t oes. Cl ary l ooked aft er her —t her e had been so met hi ng —a shi mmer —
“ Don’t st ar e, Cl ary,” Jocel yn sai d under her br eat h. She put her ar m ar ound Cl ary’ s shoul ders, t ur ni ng t he m bot h
so t hat t hey f aced t he doors t hat l ed t o t he waiti ng r oo m f or t he l ab wher e peopl e got t heir bl ood t aken. Cl ary coul d
see herself and her mot her r efl ect ed i n t he dark gl ass of t he doors. Though she was still half a head short er t han
her mot her, t hey r eall y di d l ook ali ke, di dn’t t hey? I n t he past she’ d al ways shr ugged it off when peopl e sai d t hat.
Jocel yn was beautif ul, and she wasn’t. But t he shape of t heir eyes and mout hs wer e t he sa me, as wer e t heir r ed
hair and gr een eyes and sli ght hands. Ho w had she gott en so littl e of Val enti ne’ s l ooks, Cl ary wonder ed, when her
br ot her had gott en t he m all ? He had had t heir f at her’ s f air hair and st artli ng dark eyes. Though maybe, she
t hought, if she l ooked cl osel y, she coul d see a littl e of Val enti ne i n t he st ubbor n set of her j a w. . . .
“Jocel yn.” They bot h t ur ned. The nurse who had been pushi ng t he ol d man i n t he wheel chair was st andi ng i n fr ont
of t he m. She was sli m, young-l ooki ng, dark-ski nned, and dark- eyed —and t hen, as Cl ary l ooked at her, t he
gl a mour peel ed a way. She was still a sli ght, yout hf ul-l ooki ng wo man, but no w her ski n was dark bl ue, and her hair,
t wi st ed up i nt o a knot at t he back of her head, was sno wy whit e. The bl ue of her ski n contr ast ed shocki ngl y wit h
her pale pink scrubs.
“ Cl ary,” Jocel yn sai d. “ Thi s i s Cat ari na Loss. She t ook car e of me whil e I was her e. She’ s al so a fri end of
Magnus’s.”
“ You’r e a warl ock.” The wor ds ca me out of Cl ary’ s mout h bef or e she coul d st op t he m.
“ Shhh.” The warl ock wo man l ooked horrifi ed. She gl ar ed at Jocel yn. “I don’t r e me mber you sayi ng you wer e goi ng
t o bri ng your daught er al ong. She’ s j ust a ki d.”
“ Cl ari ssa can behave herself.” Jocel yn l ooked st er nl y at Cl ary. “ Can’t you?”
Cl ary nodded. She’ d seen warl ocks bef or e, ot her t han Magnus, at t he battl e i n I dri s. All warl ocks had so me
f eat ur e t hat marked t he m out as not hu man, she’ d l ear ned, li ke Magnus’ s cat eyes. So me had wi ngs or webbed
t oes or t al oned fi ngers. But havi ng entir el y bl ue ski n was so met hi ng it woul d be har d t o hi de wit h cont act s or
oversize jackets. Catarina Loss must have had to glamour herself every day just to go outside—especially
working in a mundane hospital.
The warl ock j erked her t hu mb t o war d t he el evat ors. “ Co me on. Co me wit h me. Let’ s get t hi s done f ast.”
Cl ary and Jocel yn hurri ed aft er her t o t he bank of el evat ors and i nt o t he first one whose doors opened. As t he
doors sli d shut behi nd t he m wit h a hi ss, Cat ari na pr essed a butt on marked si mpl y M. Ther e was an i ndent ati on i n
t he met al besi de it t hat i ndi cat ed t hat fl oor M coul d be r eached onl y wit h an access key, but as she t ouched t he
butt on, a bl ue spark l eaped fr o m her fi nger and t he butt on lit up. The el evat or began t o move do wnwar d.
Cat ari na was shaki ng her head. “If you wer en’t a fri end of Magnus Bane’ s, Jocel yn Fairchil d —”
“ Fr ay,” Jocel yn sai d. “I go by Jocel yn Fr ay no w.”
“No more Shadowhunter names for you?” Catarina smirked; her lips were startlingly red against her blue skin.
“What about you, little girl? You going to be a Shadowhunter like your dad?”
Cl ary tri ed t o hi de her annoyance. “ No,” she sai d. “I’ m goi ng t o be a Shado whunt er, but I’ m not goi ng t o be li ke my
f at her. And my na me’ s Cl ari ssa, but you can call me Cl ary.”
The el evat or ca me t o a st op; t he doors sli d open. The warl ock wo man’ s bl ue eyes r est ed on Cl ary f or a mo ment.
“ Oh, I kno w your na me,” she sai d. “ Cl ari ssa Mor genst er n. Littl e girl who st opped a bi g war.”
“I guess so.” Cl ary wal ked out of t he el evat or aft er Cat ari na, her mot her cl ose behi nd. “ Wer e you t her e? I don’t
remember seeing you.”
“ Cat ari na was her e,” sai d Jocel yn, a littl e br eat hl ess fr o m hurryi ng t o keep up. They wer e wal ki ng do wn an al most
t ot all y f eat ur el ess hall way; t her e wer e no wi ndo ws, and no doors al ong t he corri dor. The wall s wer e pai nt ed a
si ckl y pal e gr een. “ She hel ped Magnus use t he Book of t he Whit e t o wake me up. Then she st ayed behi nd t o
wat ch over it whil e he r et ur ned t o I dri s.”
“ To wat ch over t he book?”
“It’s a very important book,” said Catarina, her rubber-soled shoes slapping against the floor as she hurried
ahead.
“I t hought it was a very i mport ant war,” Cl ary mutt er ed under her br eat h.
They had fi nall y r eached a door. Ther e was a squar e of fr ost ed gl ass set i n it, and t he wor d “ mor gue” was pai nt ed
on it i n l ar ge bl ack l ett ers. Cat ari na t ur ned wit h her hand on t he knob, a l ook of a muse ment on her f ace, and gazed
at Cl ary. “I l ear ned earl y on i n my lif e t hat I had a heali ng gift,” she sai d. “It’ s t he ki nd of magi c I do. So I work her e,
f or cr ap pay, at t hi s hospit al, and I do what I can t o heal mundanes who woul d scr ea m if t hey kne w what I r eall y
l ooked li ke. I coul d make a f ort une selli ng my skill s t o Shado whunt ers and du mb mundanes who t hi nk t hey kno w
what magi c i s, but I don’t. I work her e. So don’t get all hi gh- and- mi ght y on me, littl e r edheaded girl. You’r e no
bett er t han me, j ust because you’r e f a mous.”
Cl ary’ s cheeks fl a med. She had never t hought of herself as f a mous bef or e. “ You’r e ri ght,” she sai d. “I’ m sorry.”
The warlock’s blue eyes flicked to Jocelyn, who looked white and tense. “You ready?”
Jocelyn nodded, and looked at Clary, who nodded as well. Catarina pushed the door open, and they followed her
i nt o t he mor gue.
The first t hi ng t hat str uck Cl ary was t he chill. It was fr eezi ng i nsi de t he r oo m, and she hastil y zi pped her j acket. The
second was t he s mell, t he harsh st ench of cl eani ng pr oduct s overl ayi ng t he s weeti sh odor of decay. Yell o wi sh li ght
flooded down from the fluorescent lights overhead. Two large, bare exam tables stood in the center of the room;
t her e was a si nk as well, and a met al st and wit h a scal e on it f or wei ghi ng or gans. Al ong one wall was a bank of
st eel co mpart ment s, li ke saf e- deposit boxes i n a bank, but much bi gger. Cat ari na cr ossed t he r oo m t o one, t ook
hol d of t he handl e, and pull ed it; it sli d out on r oll ers. I nsi de, l yi ng on a met al sl ab, was t he body of an i nf ant.
Jocel yn made a littl e noi se i n her t hr oat. A mo ment l at er she had hurri ed t o Cat ari na’ s si de; Cl ary f oll o wed mor e
slowly. She had seen dead bodies before—she had seen Max Lightwood’s dead body, and she had known him.
He had been only nine years old. But a baby—
Jocel yn put her hand over her mout h. Her eyes wer e very l ar ge and dark, fi xed on t he body of t he chil d. Cl ary
l ooked do wn. At first gl ance t he baby —a boy —l ooked nor mal. He had all t en fi ngers and all t en t oes. But l ooki ng
cl oser —l ooki ng t he way she woul d l ook if she want ed t o see past a gl a mour —she sa w t hat t he chil d’ s fi ngers
wer e not fi ngers at all, but cl a ws, curvi ng i nwar d, shar pl y poi nt ed. The chil d’ s ski n was gr ay, and it s eyes, wi de
open and st ari ng, wer e absol ut el y bl ack —not j ust t he iri ses, but t he whit es as well.
Jocelyn whispered, “That’s how Jonathan’s eyes were when he was born—like black tunnels. They changed later,
t o l ook mor e hu man, but I r e me mber. . . .”
And wit h a shudder she t ur ned and hurri ed fr o m t he r oo m, t he mor gue door s wi ngi ng shut behi nd her.
Cl ary gl anced at Cat ari na, who l ooked i mpassi ve. “ The doct ors coul dn’t t ell ?” she asked. “I mean, hi s eyes —and
those hands —”
Cat ari na shook her head. “ They don’t see what t hey don’t want t o see,” she sai d, and shr ugged. “ Ther e’ s so me
ki nd of magi c at work her e I haven’t seen much of bef or e. De mon magi c. Bad st uff.” She sli pped so met hi ng out of
her pocket. It was a s wat ch of f abri c, t ucked i nt o a pl asti c Zi pl oc bag. “ Thi s i s a pi ece of what he was wr apped i n
when t hey br ought hi m i n. It sti nks of de mon magi c t oo. Gi ve it t o your mot her. Maybe she can sho w it t o t he Sil ent
Br ot hers, see if t hey can get so met hi ng fr o m it. Fi nd out who di d t hi s.”
Nu mbl y, Cl ary t ook it. As her hands cl osed over t he bag, a r une r ose up behi nd her eyes —a matri x of li nes and
s wirl s, t he whi sper of an i mage t hat was gone as soon as she sli d t he Baggi e i nt o t he pocket of her coat.
Her heart was poundi ng, t hough. Thi s i sn’t goi ng t o t he Sil ent Br ot hers, she t hought. Not till I see what t hat r une
does t o it.
“ You’ll t al k t o Magnus?” sai d Cat ari na. “ Tell hi m I sho wed your ma ma what she want ed t o see.”
Cl ary nodded mechani call y, li ke a doll. Suddenl y all she want ed was t o get out of t her e, out of t he yell o w-lit r oo m,
a way fr o m t he s mell of deat h and t he ti ny defil ed body l yi ng still on it s sl ab. She t hought of her mot her, every year
on Jonat han’ s birt hday t aki ng out t hat box and cryi ng over t he l ock of hi s hair, cryi ng over t he son she shoul d have
had, r epl aced by a t hi ng li ke t hi s one. I don’t t hi nk t hi s was what she want ed t o see, Cl ary t hought. I t hi nk t hi s was
what she was hoping was impossible. But “ Sur e,” was all she sai d. “I’ll t ell hi m.”
The Alt o Bar was your t ypi cal hi pst er di ve, l ocat ed parti all y under t he Br ookl yn- Queens Expr ess way over pass i n
Gr eenpoi nt. But it had an all- ages ni ght every Sat ur day, and Eri c was fri ends wit h t he o wner, so t hey l et Si mon’ s
band pl ay pr ett y much any Sat ur day t hey want ed, despit e t he f act t hat t hey kept changi ng t heir na me and coul dn’t
be count ed on t o dr a w a cr o wd.
Kyle and the other band members were already onstage, setting up their equipment and doing final checks. They
wer e goi ng t o r un t hr ough one of t heir ol d set s, wit h Kyl e on vocal s; he l ear ned l yri cs f ast, and t hey wer e f eeli ng
pr ett y confi dent. Si mon had agr eed t o st ay backst age until t he sho w st art ed, whi ch see med t o r eli eve so me of
Kyl e’ s str ess. No w Si mon peer ed ar ound t he dust y vel vet curt ai n at t he back of t he st age, tryi ng t o get a gli mpse
of who mi ght be out t her e.
The i nt eri or of t he bar had once been st yli shl y decor at ed, wit h pr essed-ti n wall s and ceili ng, r e mi ni scent of an ol d
speakeasy, and frosted art deco glass behind the bar. It was a lot grungier now than it had been when it opened,
wit h per manent s moke st ai ns on t he wall s. The fl oor was cover ed i n sa wdust t hat had f or med i nt o cl u mps as a
r esult of beer spill s and worse.
On t he pl us si de, t he t abl es t hat li ned t he wall s wer e mostl y f ull. Si mon sa w Isabell e sitti ng at a t abl e by herself,
dr essed i n a short sil ver mesh dr ess t hat l ooked li ke chai n mail, and her de mon-st o mpi ng boot s. Her hair was
pull ed up i nt o a messy bun, st uck t hr ough wit h sil ver chopsti cks. Si mon kne w each of t hose chopsti cks was r azor
shar p, abl e t o sli ce t hr ough met al or bone. Her li psti ck was bri ght r ed, li ke fr esh bl ood.
Get a gri p, Si mon t ol d hi mself. St op t hi nki ng about bl ood.
Mor e t abl es wer e t aken up by ot her fri ends of t he band. Bl yt he and Kat e, t he r especti ve girlfri ends of Kirk and
Matt, wer e at a t abl e t oget her shari ng a pl at e of palli d-l ooki ng nachos. Eri c had vari ous girlfri ends scatt er ed at
t abl es ar ound t he r oo m, and most of hi s fri ends fr o m school wer e t her e t oo, maki ng t he pl ace l ook a l ot mor e f ull.
Sitti ng off i n t he cor ner, at a t abl e all by herself, was Maur een, Si mon’ s one f an —a ti ny waifi sh bl ond girl who
l ooked about t wel ve but cl ai med she was si xt een. He fi gur ed she was pr obabl y act uall y about f ourt een. Seei ng
hi m sti cki ng hi s head ar ound t he curt ai n, she waved and s mil ed vi gor ousl y.
Si mon pull ed hi s head back i n li ke a t urtl e, yanki ng t he curt ai ns cl osed.
“ Hey,” sai d Jace, who was sitti ng on an overt ur ned speaker, l ooki ng at hi s cell phone, “ do you want t o see a phot o
of Alec and Magnus in Berlin?”
“ Not r eall y,” sai d Si mon.
“Magnus is wearing lederhosen.”
“ And yet, still no.”
Jace shoved the phone into his pocket and looked at Simon quizzically. “Are you okay?”
“ Yes,” Si mon sai d, but he wasn’t. He f elt li ght- headed and nauseat ed and t ense, whi ch he put do wn t o t he str ai n of
worryi ng about what was goi ng t o happen t oni ght. And it di dn’t hel p t hat he hadn’t f ed; he was goi ng t o have t o
deal wit h t hat, and soon. He wi shed Cl ary wer e her e, but he kne w she coul dn’t co me. She had so me weddi ng
r esponsi bilit y t o att end t o, and had t ol d hi m a l ong ti me ago t hat she wasn’t goi ng t o be abl e t o make it. He’ d
passed that on to Jace before they’d gotten here. Jace had seemed both miserably relieved and also
di sappoi nt ed, all at t he sa me ti me, whi ch was i mpr essi ve.
“ Hey, hey,” Kyl e sai d, ducki ng t hr ough t he curt ai n. “ We’r e j ust about r eady t o go.” He l ooked at Si mon cl osel y. “ You
sur e about t hi s?”
Si mon l ooked fr o m Kyl e t o Jace. “ Di d you kno w you t wo mat ch?”
They glanced down at themselves, and then at each other. Both were wearing jeans and long-sleeved black Tshirt
s. Jace t ugged on hi s shirt he m wit h sli ght self-consci ousness. “I borr o wed t hi s fr o m Kyl e. My ot her shirt was
pr ett y filt hy.”
“ Wo w, you’r e weari ng each ot her’ s cl ot hes no w. That’ s, li ke, best-fri end st uff.”
“ Feeli ng l eft out ?” sai d Kyl e. “I suppose you want t o borr o w a bl ack T-shirt t oo.”
Si mon di d not st at e t he obvi ous, whi ch was t hat not hi ng t hat fit Kyl e or Jace was li kel y t o fit hi s ski nny fr a me. “ As
long as everyone’s wearing their own pants.”
“I see I have co me i n on a f asci nati ng mo ment i n t he conversati on.” Eri c poked hi s head t hr ough t he curt ai n.
“ Co me on. It’ s ti me t o st art.”
As Kyl e and Si mon headed f or t he st age, Jace got t o hi s f eet. Just bel o w t he he m of hi s borr o wed shirt, Si mon
coul d see t he glitt eri ng edge of a dagger. “ Br eak a l eg up t her e,” Jace sai d wit h a wi cked gri n. “ And I’ll be do wn
here, hopefully breaking someone else’s.”
Raphael had been supposed t o co me at t wili ght, but he kept t he m waiti ng al most t hr ee hours past t he appoi nt ed
ti me bef or e hi s Pr oj ecti on appear ed i n t he I nstit ut e li br ary.
Vampire politics, t hought Luke dryl y. The head of t he Ne w York va mpir e cl an woul d co me, if he must, when t he
Shado whunt ers call ed; but he woul d not be su mmoned, and he woul d not be punct ual. Luke had spent t he past
f e w hours whili ng a way t he ti me by r eadi ng sever al of t he li br ary’ s books; Maryse hadn’t been i nt er est ed i n t al ki ng
and had spent most of t he ti me st andi ng by t he wi ndo w, dri nki ng r ed wi ne out of a cut-cryst al gl ass and st ari ng at
t he tr affi c goi ng by on York Avenue.
She t ur ned as Raphael appear ed, li ke a whit e chal k dr a wi ng on t he darkness. First t he pall or of hi s f ace and
hands beca me vi si bl e, and t hen t he darkness of hi s cl ot hes and hair. Fi nall y he st ood, fill ed i n, a soli d-l ooki ng
Pr oj ecti on. He l ooked at Maryse hurryi ng t o war d hi m and sai d, “ You call ed, Shado whunt er ?” He t ur ned t hen, hi s
gaze s weepi ng over Luke. “ And t he wolf- hu man i s her e t oo, I see. Have I been su mmoned t o a sort of Council ?”
“ Not exactl y.” Maryse set her gl ass do wn on t he deskt op. “ You have hear d about t he r ecent deat hs, Raphael ? The
Shadowhunter bodies that have been found?”
Raphael r ai sed expr essi ve eyebr o ws. “I have. I di d not t hi nk t o make not e of it. It has not hi ng t o do wit h my cl an.”
“ One body f ound i n warl ock t errit ory, one i n wolf t errit ory, one i n f aeri e t errit ory,” sai d Luke. “I i magi ne your f ol k will
be next. It see ms a cl ear att e mpt t o f o ment di scor d a mong Do wnworl ders. I a m her e i n good f ait h, t o sho w you
t hat I do not beli eve t hat you ar e r esponsi bl e, Raphael.”
“ What a r eli ef,” Raphael sai d, but hi s eyes wer e dark and wat chf ul. “ Why woul d t her e be any suggesti on t hat I
was?”
“ One of t he dead was abl e t o t ell us who att acked hi m,” sai d Maryse car ef ull y. “ Bef or e he —di ed —he l et us kno w
that the person responsible was Camille.”
“ Ca mill e.” Raphael’ s voi ce was car ef ul, but hi s expr essi on, bef or e he school ed it i nt o bl ankness, sho wed fl eeti ng
shock. “ But t hat i s not possi bl e.”
“ Why i s it not possi bl e, Raphael ?” Luke asked. “ She i s t he head of your cl an. She i s very po werf ul and f a mousl y
quit e r ut hl ess. And she see ms t o have di sappear ed. She never ca me t o I dri s t o fi ght wit h you i n t he war. She
never agreed to the new Accords. No Shadowhunter has seen or heard tell of her in months—until now.”
Raphael said nothing.
“ Ther e i s so met hi ng goi ng on,” Maryse sai d. “ We want ed t o gi ve you t he chance t o expl ai n it t o us bef or e we t ol d
t he Cl ave of Ca mill e’ s i nvol ve ment. A sho w of good f ait h.”
“ Yes,” sai d Raphael. “ Yes, it i s cert ai nl y a sho w.”
“ Raphael,” sai d Luke, not unki ndl y. “ You don’t have t o pr ot ect her. If you car e f or her —”
“ Car e f or her ?” Raphael t ur ned asi de and spat, t hough as he was a Pr oj ecti on, t hi s was mor e f or sho w t han r esult.
“I hat e her. I despi se her. Every eveni ng when I ri se, I wi sh her dead.”
“ Oh,” sai d Maryse deli cat el y. “ Then, per haps —”
“ She l ed us f or years,” sai d Raphael. “ She was t he cl an head when I was made a va mpir e, and t hat was fift y years
ago. Bef or e t hat, she ca me t o us fr o m London. She was a str anger t o t he cit y but r ut hl ess enough t o ri se t o head
t he Manhatt an cl an i n onl y a f e w short mont hs. Last year I beca me her second i n co mmand. Then, so me mont hs
ago, I di scover ed t hat she had been killi ng hu mans. Killi ng t he m f or sport, and dri nki ng t heir bl ood. Br eaki ng t he
La w. It happens so meti mes. Va mpir es go r ogue and t her e i s not hi ng t hat can be done t o st op t he m. But f or it t o
happen t o t he head of a cl an —t hey ar e supposed t o be bett er t han t hat.” He st ood still, hi s dark eyes i nwar dl
ooki ng, l ost i n hi s me mori es. “ We ar e not li ke t he wol ves, t hose savages. We do not kill one l eader t o fi nd
anot her. For a va mpir e t o r ai se a hand agai nst anot her va mpir e i s t he worst of cri mes, even if t hat va mpir e has
br oken t he La w. And Ca mill e has many alli es, many f oll o wers. I coul d not ri sk endi ng her. I nst ead I went t o her and
t ol d her she had t o l eave us, t o get out, or I woul d go t o t he Cl ave. I di dn’t want t o do t hat, of course, because I
kne w t hat if it wer e di scover ed, it woul d bri ng wr at h do wn on t he entir e cl an. We woul d be di str ust ed, i nvesti gat ed.
We woul d be sha med and hu mili at ed i n fr ont of ot her cl ans.”
Maryse made an i mpati ent noi se. “ Ther e ar e mor e i mport ant t hi ngs t han l oss of f ace.”
“ When you ar e a va mpir e, it can mean t he diff er ence bet ween lif e and deat h.” Raphael’ s voi ce dr opped. “I
ga mbl ed t hat she woul d beli eve I woul d do it, and she di d. She agr eed t o go. I sent her a way, but it l eft behi nd a
conundr u m. I coul d not t ake her pl ace, f or she had not abdi cat ed it. I coul d not expl ai n her depart ur e wit hout
r eveali ng what she had done. I had t o pose it as a l ong absence, a need t o tr avel. Wanderl ust i s not unhear d of i n
our ki nd; it co mes upon us no w and t hen. When you can li ve f or ever, st ayi ng i n one pl ace can co me t o see m a dull
pri son aft er many, many years.”
“And how long did you think you could keep up the charade?” Luke inquired.
“ As l ong as I coul d,” sai d Raphael. “ Until no w, it see ms.” He l ooked a way fr o m t he m, t o war d t he wi ndo w and t he
sparkling night outside.
Luke l eaned back agai nst one of t he bookshel ves. He was vaguel y a mused t o noti ce t hat he see med t o be i n t he
shape-shift er secti on, li ned wit h vol u mes on t he t opi cs of wer e wol ves, naga, kit sunes, and sel ki es. “ You mi ght be
i nt er est ed t o kno w she has been t elli ng much t he sa me st ory about you,” he sai d, negl ecti ng t o menti on who m she
had been t elli ng it t o.
“I t hought she had l eft t he cit y.”
“ Per haps she di d, but she has r et ur ned,” sai d Maryse. “ And she i s no l onger sati sfi ed onl y wit h hu man bl ood, it
seems.”
“I do not kno w what I can t ell you,” sai d Raphael. “I was tryi ng t o pr ot ect my cl an. If t he La w must puni sh me, t hen I
will accept puni sh ment.”
“ We ar en’t i nt er est ed i n puni shi ng you, Raphael,” sai d Luke. “ Not unl ess you r ef use t o cooper at e.”
Raphael t ur ned back t o t he m, hi s dark eyes bur ni ng. “ Cooper at e wit h what ?”
“ We woul d li ke t o capt ur e Ca mill e. Ali ve,” sai d Maryse. “ We want t o questi on her. We need t o kno w why she has
been killing Shadowhunters —and these Shadowhunters in particular.”
“If you si ncer el y hope t o acco mpli sh t hi s, I hope you have a very cl ever pl an.” Ther e was a mi xt ur e of a muse ment
and scor n i n Raphael’ s voi ce. “ Ca mill e i s cunni ng even f or our ki nd, and we ar e very cunni ng i ndeed.”
“I have a pl an,” sai d Luke. “It i nvol ves t he Dayli ght er. Si mon Le wi s.”
Raphael made a f ace. “I di sli ke hi m,” he sai d. “I woul d r at her not be a part of a pl an t hat r eli es upon hi s
involvement.”
“ Well,” sai d Luke, “i sn’t t hat t oo bad f or you.”
St upi d, Cl ary t hought. St upi d not t o bri ng an u mbr ell a. The f ai nt dri zzl e t hat her mot her had t ol d her was co mi ng
t hat mor ni ng had t ur ned i nt o nearl y f ull- bl o wn r ai n by t he ti me she r eached t he Alt o Bar on Lori mer Str eet. She
pushed past t he knot of peopl e s moki ng out on t he si de wal k and ducked gr at ef ull y i nt o t he dry war mt h of t he bar
inside.
Mill enni u m Li nt was alr eady onst age, t he guys whali ng a way on t heir i nstr u ment s, and Kyl e, at t he fr ont, gr o wli ng
sexil y i nt o a mi cr ophone. Cl ary f elt a mo ment of sati sf acti on. It was l ar gel y do wn t o her i nfl uence t hat t hey’ d hir ed
Kyl e at all, and he was cl earl y doi ng t he m pr oud.
She gl anced ar ound t he r oo m, hopi ng t o see eit her Mai a or Isabell e. She kne w it woul dn’t be bot h of t he m, si nce
Si mon car ef ull y i nvit ed t he m onl y t o alt er nati ng gi gs. Her gaze f ell on a sl ender fi gur e wit h bl ack hair, and she
moved t o war d t hat t abl e, onl y t o st op mi d way. It wasn’t Isabell e at all, but a much ol der wo man, her f ace made up
with dark outlined eyes. She was wearing a power suit and reading a newspaper, apparently oblivious to the
music.
“ Cl ary! Over her e!” Cl ary t ur ned and sa w t he act ual Isabell e, seat ed at a t abl e cl ose t o t he st age. She wor e a
dr ess t hat shone li ke a sil ver beacon; Cl ary navi gat ed t o war d it and fl ung herself do wn i n t he seat opposit e Izzy.
“ Got caught i n t he r ai n, I see,” Isabell e observed.
Cl ary pushed her da mp hair back fr o m her f ace wit h a r uef ul s mil e. “ You bet agai nst Mot her Nat ur e, you l ose.”
Isabelle raised her dark eyebrows. “I thought you weren’t coming tonight. Simon said you had some wedding blahbl
ah t o deal wit h.” Isabell e was not i mpr essed wit h weddi ngs or any of t he tr appi ngs of r o manti c l ove, as f ar as
Cl ary coul d t ell.
“ My mo m wasn’t f eeli ng well,” Cl ary sai d. “ She deci ded t o r eschedul e.”
Thi s was tr ue, up t o a poi nt. When t hey’ d co me ho me fr o m t he hospit al, Jocel yn had gone i nt o her r oo m and shut
t he door. Cl ary, f eeli ng hel pl ess and fr ustr at ed, had hear d her cryi ng softl y t hr ough t he door, but her mo m had
r ef used t o l et her i n or t o t al k about it. Event uall y Luke had co me ho me, and Cl ary had gr at ef ull y l eft t he car e of her
mot her t o hi m and headed out t o ki ck ar ound t he cit y bef or e goi ng t o see Si mon’ s band. She al ways tri ed t o co me
t o hi s gi gs if she coul d, and besi des, t al ki ng t o hi m woul d make her f eel bett er.
“ Huh.” Isabell e di dn’t i nquir e f urt her. So meti mes her al most t ot al l ack of i nt er est i n ot her peopl e’ s pr obl e ms was
so met hi ng of a r eli ef. “ Well, I’ m sur e Si mon will be gl ad you ca me.”
Cl ary gl anced t o war d t he st age. “ Ho w’ s t he sho w been so f ar ?”
“ Fi ne.” Isabell e che wed t houghtf ull y on her str a w. “ That ne w l ead si nger t hey have i s hot. Is he si ngl e? I’ d li ke t o
ride him around town like a bad, bad pony—”
“Isabelle!”
“ What ?” Isabell e gl anced over at her and shr ugged. “ Oh, what ever. Si mon and I ar en’t excl usi ve. I t ol d you t hat.”
Ad mitt edl y, Cl ary t hought, Si mon di dn’t have a l eg t o st and on i n t hi s parti cul ar sit uati on. But he was still her fri end.
She was about to say something in his defense when she glanced toward the stage again—and something
caught her eye. A familiar figure, emerging from the stage door. She would have recognized him anywhere, at any
ti me, no matt er ho w dark t he r oo m or ho w unexpect ed t he si ght of hi m.
Jace. He was dr essed li ke a mundane: j eans, a ti ght bl ack T-shirt t hat sho wed t he move ment of t he sli m muscl es
in his shoulders and back. His hair gleamed under the stage lights. Covert gazes watched him as he moved
t o war d t he wall and l eaned agai nst it, l ooki ng i nt entl y t o war d t he fr ont of t he r oo m. Cl ary f elt her heart begi n t o
pound. It f elt li ke it had been f or ever si nce she’ d l ast seen hi m, t hough she kne w it had been onl y about a day. And
yet, alr eady, wat chi ng hi m see med li ke wat chi ng so meone di st ant, a str anger. What was he even doi ng her e? He
didn’t like Simon! He’d never come to a single one of the band’s performances before.
“Clary!” Isabelle sounded accusing. Clary turned to see that she’d accidentally upset Isabelle’s glass, and water
was dripping off the other girl’s lovely silver dress.
Isabell e, gr abbi ng a napki n, l ooked at her darkl y. “Just t al k t o hi m,” she sai d. “I kno w you want t o.”
“I’ m sorr y,” Cl ar y sai d.
Isabelle made a shooing gesture in her direction. “Go.”
Cl ary got up, s moot hi ng do wn her dr ess. If she’ d kno wn Jace was goi ng t o be her e, she woul d have wor n
so met hi ng ot her t han r ed ti ght s, boot s, and a vi nt age hot- pi nk Bet sey Johnson dress of hers she’d found hanging
i n Luke’ s spar e cl oset. Once, she’ d t hought t he fl o wer-shaped gr een butt ons t hat r an all t he way up t he fr ont wer e
f unky and cool, but no w she j ust f elt l ess put-t oget her and sophi sti cat ed t han Isabell e.
She pushed her way across the floor, which was now crowded with people either dancing or standing in place,
dri nki ng beer, and s wayi ng a littl e t o t he musi c. She coul dn’t hel p but r e me mber t he first ti me she’ d ever seen
Jace. It had been i n a cl ub, and she’ d wat ched hi m acr oss t he fl oor, wat ched hi s bri ght hair and t he arr ogant set of
hi s shoul ders. She’ d t hought he was beautif ul, but not i n any way t hat appli ed t o her. He wasn’t t he sort of boy you
coul d have dat ed, she’ d t hought. He exi st ed apart fr o m t hat worl d.
He di dn’t noti ce her no w until she was nearl y st andi ng i n fr ont of hi m. Up cl ose, she coul d see ho w tir ed he l ooked,
as if he hadn’t sl ept i n days. Hi s f ace was ti ght wit h exhausti on, t he bones shar p-l ooki ng under t he ski n. He was
l eani ng agai nst t he wall, hi s fi ngers hooked i n t he l oops of hi s belt, hi s pal e gol d eyes wat chf ul.
“Jace,” she said.
He st art ed, and t ur ned t o l ook at her. For a mo ment hi s eyes lit, t he way t hey al ways di d when he sa w her, and she
f elt a wil d hope ri se i n her chest.
Al most i nst antl y t he li ght went out of t he m, and t he r e mai ni ng col or dr ai ned out of hi s f ace. “I t hought —Si mon sai d
you wer en’t co mi ng.”
A wave of nausea passed over her, and she put her hand out t o st eady herself agai nst t he wall. “ So you onl y ca me
because you thought I wouldn’t be here?”
He shook hi s head. “I —”
“ Wer e you ever pl anni ng on t al ki ng t o me agai n?” Cl ary f elt her voi ce ri se, and f orced it back do wn wit h a vi ci ous
eff ort. Her hands wer e no w ti ght at her si des, her nail s cutti ng har d i nt o her pal ms. “If you’r e goi ng t o br eak it off,
t he l east you coul d do i s t ell me, not j ust st op t al ki ng t o me and l eave me t o fi gur e it out on my o wn.”
“Why,” Jace said, “does everyone keep goddamn asking me if I’m going to break up with you? First Simon, and
now—”
“ You t al ked t o Si mon about us?” Cl ary shook her head. “ Why? Why ar en’t you t al ki ng t o me?”
“ Because I can’t t al k t o you,” Jace sai d. “I can’t t al k t o you, I can’t be wit h you, I can’t even l ook at you.”
Cl ary sucked her br eat h i n; it f elt li ke br eat hi ng batt ery aci d. “ What ?”
He seemed to realize what he had said, and lapsed into an appalled silence. For a moment they simply looked at
each ot her. Then Cl ary t ur ned and dart ed back t hr ough t he cr o wd, pushi ng her way past fl aili ng el bo ws and knot s
of chatti ng peopl e, bli nd t o everyt hi ng but getti ng t o t he door as qui ckl y as she coul d.
“ And no w,” Eri c yell ed i nt o hi s mi cr ophone, “ we’r e goi ng t o si ng a ne w song —one we j ust wr ot e. Thi s one’ s f or my
girlfriend. We’ve been going out for three weeks, and, damn, our love is true. We’re gonna be together forever,
baby. This one’s called ‘Bang You Like a Drum.’”
Ther e was l aught er and appl ause fr o m t he audi ence as t he musi c st art ed up, t hough Si mon wasn’t sur e if Eri c
r eali zed t hey t hought he was j oki ng, whi ch he wasn’t. Eri c was al ways i n l ove wit h what ever girl he’ d j ust st art ed
dati ng, and he al ways wr ot e an inappropriate song about it. Normally Simon wouldn’t have cared, but he’d really
hoped t hey wer e goi ng t o get off t he st age aft er t he pr evi ous song. He f elt worse t han ever —di zzy, sti cky and si ck
wit h s weat, hi s mout h t asti ng met alli c, li ke ol d bl ood.
The music crashed around him, sounding like nails being pounded into his eardrums. His fingers slipped and slid
on t he stri ngs as he pl ayed, and he sa w Kirk l ook over at hi m qui zzi call y. He tri ed t o f orce hi mself t o f ocus, t o
concentr at e, but it was li ke tryi ng t o st art a car wit h a dead batt ery. Ther e was an e mpt y gri ndi ng noi se i n hi s head,
but no spark.
He st ar ed out i nt o t he bar, l ooki ng —he wasn’t even quit e sur e why —f or Isabell e, but he coul d see onl y a sea of
whit e f aces t ur ned t o war d hi m, and he r e me mber ed hi s first ni ght i n t he Du mont Hot el and t he f aces of t he
va mpir es t ur ned t o war d hi m, li ke whit e paper fl o wers unf ol di ng agai nst a dark e mpti ness. A sur ge of gri ppi ng,
pai nf ul nausea sei zed hi m. He st agger ed back, hi s hands f alli ng a way fr o m t he guit ar. The gr ound under hi s f eet
f elt as if it wer e movi ng. The ot her me mbers of t he band, caught up i n t he musi c, di dn’t see m t o noti ce. Si mon t or e
t he str ap of t he guit ar off hi s shoul der and pushed past Matt t o t he curt ai n at t he back of t he st age, ducki ng t hr ough
it j ust i n ti me t o f all t o hi s knees and r et ch.
Not hi ng ca me up. Hi s st o mach f elt as holl o w as a well. He st ood up and l eaned agai nst t he wall, pr essi ng hi s i cy
hands agai nst hi s f ace. It had been weeks si nce he’ d f elt eit her col d or hot, but no w he f elt f everi sh —and scar ed.
What was happeni ng t o hi m?
He remembered Jace saying, You’r e a va mpir e. Bl ood i sn’t li ke f ood f or you. Bl ood i s . . . bl ood. Coul d all t hi s be
because he hadn’t eat en? But he di dn’t f eel hungry, or even t hirst y, r eall y. He f elt as si ck as if he wer e dyi ng.
Maybe he’d been poisoned. Maybe the Mark of Cain didn’t protect against something like that?
He moved sl o wl y t o war d t he fir e door t hat woul d t ake hi m out ont o t he str eet i n back of t he cl ub. Maybe t he col d air
out si de woul d cl ear hi s head. Maybe all t hi s was j ust exhausti on and nerves.
“ Si mon?” A littl e voi ce, li ke a bir d’ s chir p. He l ooked do wn wit h dr ead, and sa w t hat Maur een was st andi ng at hi s
elbow. She looked even tinier close up—little birdlike bones and a lot of very pale blond hair, which cascaded
down her shoulders from beneath a knitted pink cap. She wore rainbow-stripe arm warmers and a short-sleeved
whit e T-shirt wit h a scr een pri nt of Str a wberry Short cake on it. Si mon gr oaned i nwar dl y.
“ Thi s r eall y i sn’t a good ti me, Mo,” he sai d.
“I j ust want t o t ake a pi ct ur e of you on my ca mer a phone,” she sai d, pushi ng her hair back behi nd her ears
nervousl y. “ So I can sho w it t o my fri ends, okay?”
“ Fi ne.” Hi s head was poundi ng. Thi s was ri di cul ous. It wasn’t li ke he was over whel med wit h f ans. Maur een was
lit er all y t he band’ s onl y f an, t hat he kne w about, and was Eri c’ s littl e cousi n’ s fri end, t o boot. He supposed he
coul dn’t r eall y aff or d t o ali enat e her. “ Go ahead. Take it.”
She r ai sed her phone and cli cked, t hen fr o wned. “ No w one wit h you and me?” She si dl ed up t o hi m qui ckl y,
pr essi ng herself agai nst hi s si de. He coul d s mell str a wberry li p gl oss on her, and under t hat, t he s mell of salt
s weat and salti er hu man bl ood. She l ooked up at hi m, hol di ng t he phone up and out wit h her fr ee hand, and
gri nned. She had a gap bet ween her t wo fr ont t eet h, and a bl ue vei n i n her t hr oat. It pul sed as she dr e w a br eat h.
“Smile,” she said.
Twi n j olt s of pai n went t hr ough Si mon as hi s f angs sli d fr ee, di ggi ng i nt o hi s li p. He hear d Maur een gasp, and t hen
her phone went fl yi ng as he caught hol d of her and spun her t o war d hi m, and hi s cani ne t eet h sank i nt o her t hr oat.
Bl ood expl oded i nt o hi s mout h, t he t ast e of it li ke not hi ng el se. It was as if he had been st arvi ng f or air and no w
was breathing, inhaling great gasps of cold, clean oxygen, and Maureen struggled and pushed at him, but he
bar el y noti ced. He di dn’t even noti ce when she went li mp, her dead wei ght dr aggi ng hi m t o t he fl oor so t hat he
was lying on top of her, his hands gripping her shoulders, clenching and unclenching as he drank.
You have never fed on someone purely human, have you? Camille had said. You will.
And when you do, you will never f or get it .
9F
ROM FI RE UNTO FI RE
Cl ar y r eached t he door and bur st out i nt o t he r ai n- dr enched eveni ng air. It was co mi ng do wn i n sheet s no w,
and she was instantly soaked. Choking on rainwater and tears, she darted past Eric’s familiar-looking yellow van,
r ai n sheeti ng off it s r oof i nt o t he gutt er, and was about t o r ace acr oss t he str eet agai nst t he li ght when a hand
caught her ar m and spun her around.
It was Jace. He was as soaked as she was, t he r ai n sti cki ng hi s f air hair t o hi s head and pl ast eri ng hi s shirt t o hi s
body like black paint. “Clary, didn’t you hear me calling you?”
“ Let go of me.” Her voi ce shook.
“ No. Not until you t al k t o me.” He l ooked ar ound, up and do wn t he str eet, whi ch was desert ed, t he r ai n expl odi ng
off t he bl ack pave ment li ke f ast- bl oo mi ng fl o wers. “ Co me on.”
Still hol di ng her by t he ar m, he half- dr agged her ar ound t he van and i nt o a narr o w all ey t hat bor der ed t he Alt o Bar.
Hi gh wi ndo ws above t he m l et t hr ough t he bl urr ed sound of t he musi c t hat was still bei ng pl ayed i nsi de. The all ey
was brick-walled, clearly a dumping ground for old bits of no longer usable musical equipment. Broken amps and
ol d mi kes litt er ed t he gr ound, al ong wit h shatt er ed beer gl asses and ci gar ett e butt s.
Cl ary j erked her ar m out of Jace’ s gr asp and t ur ned t o f ace hi m. “If you’r e pl anni ng t o apol ogi ze, don’t bot her.”
She pushed her wet, heavy hair back fr o m her f ace. “I don’t want t o hear it.”
“I was goi ng t o t ell you t hat I was tryi ng t o hel p out Si mon,” he sai d, r ai nwat er r unni ng off hi s eyel ashes and do wn
hi s cheeks li ke t ears. “I’ ve been at hi s pl ace f or t he past —”
“ And you coul dn’t t ell me? Coul dn’t t ext me a si ngl e li ne l etti ng me kno w wher e you wer e? Oh, wait. You coul dn’t,
because you still have my goddamned phone. Gi ve it t o me.”
Sil entl y he r eached i nt o hi s j eans pocket and handed it t o her. It l ooked unda maged. She j a mmed it i nt o her
messenger bag bef or e t he r ai n coul d r ui n it. Jace wat ched her as she di d it, l ooki ng as if she’ d hit hi m i n t he f ace.
It onl y made her angri er. What ri ght di d he have t o be hurt ?
“I t hi nk,” he sai d sl o wl y, “t hat I t hought t hat t he cl osest t hi ng t o bei ng wit h you was bei ng wit h Si mon. Wat chi ng out
f or hi m. I had so me st upi d i dea t hat you’ d r eali ze I was doi ng it f or you and f or gi ve me —”
All of Cl ary’ s r age r ose t o t he surf ace, a hot, unst oppabl e ti de. “I don’t even kno w what you t hi nk I’ m supposed t o
forgive you fo,”r she shout ed. “ A m I supposed t o f or gi ve you f or not l ovi ng me any mor e? Because if t hat’ s what you
want, Jace Li ght wood, you can go ri ght ahead and —” She t ook a st ep back, blindly, and nearly tripped over an
abandoned speaker. Her bag slid to the ground as she put her hand out to right herself, but Jace was already
t her e. He moved f or war d t o cat ch her, and kept movi ng, until her back hit t he all ey wall, and hi s ar ms wer e ar ound
her, and he was ki ssi ng her fr anti call y.
She kne w she ought t o push hi m a way; her mi nd t ol d her it was t he sensi bl e t hi ng t o do, but no ot her part of her
car ed about what was sensi bl e. Not when Jace was ki ssi ng her li ke he t hought he mi ght go t o hell f or doi ng it, but
it woul d be wort h it.
She dug her fi ngers i nt o hi s shoul ders, i nt o t he da mp f abri c of hi s T-shirt, f eeli ng t he r esi st ance of t he muscl es
under neat h, and ki ssed hi m back wit h all t he desper ati on of t he past f e w days, all t he not kno wi ng wher e he was
or what he was t hi nki ng, all t he f eeli ng li ke a part of her heart had been ri pped out of her chest and she coul d
never get enough air. “ Tell me,” she sai d bet ween ki sses, t heir wet f aces sli di ng agai nst each ot her. “ Tell me
what’ s wr ong —Oh,” she gasped as he dr e w a way fr o m her, onl y f ar enough t o r each hi s hands do wn and put t he m
ar ound her wai st. He lift ed her up so she st ood on t op of a br oken speaker, maki ng t he m al most t he sa me hei ght.
Then he put his hands on either side of her head and leaned forward, so their bodies almost touched—but not
quit e. It was nerve- wr acki ng. She coul d f eel t he f everi sh heat t hat ca me off hi m; her hands wer e still on hi s
shoul ders, but it wasn’t enough. She want ed hi m wr apped ar ound her, hol di ng her ti ght. “ W- why,” she br eat hed,
“can’t you t al k t o me? Why can’t you l ook at me?”
He ducked hi s head do wn t o l ook i nt o her f ace. Hi s eyes, surr oundi ng by l ashes darkened wit h r ai nwat er, wer e
impossibly gold.
“ Because I l ove you.”
She coul dn’t st and it any mor e. She t ook her hands off hi s shoul ders, hooked her fi ngers t hr ough hi s belt l oops,
and pull ed hi m agai nst her. He l et her do it wit h no r esi st ance, hi s hands fl att eni ng agai nst t he wall, f ol di ng hi s
body against hers until they were pressed together everywhere—chests, hips, legs—like puzzle pieces. His hands
sli d do wn t o her wai st and he ki ssed her, l ong and li ngeri ng, maki ng her shudder.
She pull ed a way. “ That doesn’t make any sense.”
“ Neit her does t hi s,” he sai d, “ but I don’t car e. I’ m si ck of tryi ng t o pr et end I can li ve wit hout you. Don’t you
underst and t hat ? Can’t you see it’ s killi ng me?”
She st ar ed at hi m. She coul d see he meant what he sai d, coul d see it i n t he eyes she kne w as well as her o wn, i n
t he br ui sed shado ws under t hose eyes, t he pul se poundi ng i n hi s t hr oat. Her desir e f or ans wers battl ed t he mor e
pri mal part of her br ai n, and l ost. “ Ki ss me t hen,” she whi sper ed, and he pr essed hi s mout h agai nst hers, t heir
heart s sl a mmi ng t oget her t hr ough t he t hi n l ayers of wet f abri c t hat di vi ded t he m. And she was dr o wni ng i n it, i n t he
sensati on of hi m ki ssi ng her; of r ai n every wher e, r unni ng off her eyel ashes; of l etti ng hi s hands sli de fr eel y over t he
wet, cr u mpl ed f abri c of her dr ess, made t hi n and cli ngi ng by t he r ai n. It was al most li ke havi ng hi s hands on her
bar e ski n, her chest, her hi ps, her st o mach; when he r eached t he he m of her dr ess, he gri pped her l egs, pr essi ng
her harder back against the wall while she wrapped them around his waist.
He made a noi se of sur pri se, l o w i n hi s t hr oat, and dug hi s fi ngers i nt o t he t hi n f abri c of her ti ght s. Not
unexpect edl y, t hey ri pped, and hi s wet fi ngers wer e suddenl y on t he bar e ski n of her l egs. Not t o be out done, she
sli d her hands under t he he m of hi s soaked shirt, and l et her fi ngers expl or e what was under neat h: t he ti ght, hot
ski n over hi s ri bs, t he ri dges of hi s abdo men, t he scars on hi s back, t he angl e of hi s hi pbones above t he
wai st band of hi s j eans. Thi s was unchart ed t errit ory f or her, but it see med t o be dri vi ng hi m cr azy: he was moani ng
softl y agai nst her mout h, ki ssi ng her har der and har der, as if it woul d never be enough, not quit e enough —
And a horrifi c cl angi ng noi se expl oded i n Cl ary’ s ears, shatt eri ng her out of her dr ea m of ki ssi ng and r ai n. Wit h a
gasp she pushed Jace a way, har d enough t hat he l et go of her and she t u mbl ed off t he speaker t o l and unst eadil y
on her f eet, hastil y str ai ght eni ng her dr ess. Her heart was sl a mmi ng agai nst her ri b cage li ke a batt eri ng r a m, and
she f elt di zzy.
“ Da mmit.” Isabell e, st andi ng i n t he mout h of t he all ey, her wet bl ack hair li ke a cl oak ar ound her shoul ders, ki cked
a tr ash can out of her way and gl o wer ed. “ Oh, f or goodness’ sake,” she sai d. “I can’t beli eve you t wo. Why?
What’s wrong with bedrooms? And privacy?”
Cl ary l ooked at Jace. He was utt erl y dr enched, wat er r unni ng off hi m i n sheet s, hi s f air hair, pl ast er ed t o hi s head,
nearl y sil ver i n t he f ai nt gl o w of t he di st ant str eetli ght s. Just l ooki ng at hi m made Cl ary want t o t ouch hi m agai n,
Isabell e or no Isabell e, wit h a l ongi ng t hat was nearl y pai nf ul. He was st ari ng at Izzy wit h t he l ook of so meone who
had been slapped out of a dream—bewilderment, anger, dawning realization.
“I was j ust l ooki ng f or Si mon,” Isabell e sai d def ensi vel y, seei ng Jace’ s expr essi on. “ He r an off st age, and I’ ve no
i dea wher e he went.” The musi c had st opped, Cl ary r eali zed, at so me poi nt; she hadn’t noti ced when. “ Any way,
he’ s obvi ousl y not her e. Go back t o what you wer e doi ng. What’ s t he poi nt i n wasti ng a perf ectl y good bri ck wall
when you have so meone t o t hr o w agai nst it, t hat’ s what I al ways say.” And she st al ked off, back t o war d t he bar.
Cl ary l ooked at Jace. At any ot her ti me t hey woul d have l aughed t oget her at Isabell e’ s moodi ness, but t her e was
no humor in his expression, and she knew immediately that whatever they had had between them—whatever had
bl osso med out of hi s mo ment ary l ack of contr ol —it was gone no w. She coul d t ast e bl ood i n her mout h and wasn’t
sur e if she had bitt en her o wn li p or he had.
“Jace —” She t ook a st ep t o war d hi m.
“ Don’t,” he sai d, hi s voi ce very r ough. “I can’t.”
And t hen he was gone, r unni ng as f ast as onl y he coul d r un, a bl ur t hat vani shed i nt o t he di st ance bef or e she coul d
even t ake a br eat h t o call hi m back.
“ Si mon!”
The angry voice exploded in Simon’s ears. He would have released Maureen then—or so he told himself—but he
di dn’t get t he chance. Str ong hands gr abbed hi m by t he ar ms, hauli ng hi m off her. He was dr agged t o hi s f eet by a
whit e-f aced Kyl e, still t ousl ed and s weat y fr o m t he set t hey’ d j ust fi ni shed. “ What t he hell, Si mon. What t he hell —”
“I di dn’t mean t o,” Si mon gasped. Hi s voi ce sounded bl urry t o hi s o wn ears; hi s f angs wer e still out, and he hadn’t
l ear ned t o t al k ar ound t he godda mn t hi ngs yet. Past Kyl e, on t he fl oor, he coul d see Maur een l yi ng i n a cr u mpl ed
heap, horri bl y still. “It j ust happened —”
“I t ol d you. I t ol d you.” Kyl e’ s voi ce r ose, and he pushed Si mon, har d. Si mon st u mbl ed back, hi s f or ehead bur ni ng,
as an i nvi si bl e hand see med t o lift Kyl e and fli ng hi m har d agai nst t he wall behi nd hi m. He hit it and sli d t o t he
gr ound, l andi ng i n a wolfli ke cr ouch, on hi s hands and knees. He st agger ed t o hi s f eet, st ari ng. “Jesus Chri st.
Si mon —”
But Si mon had dr opped t o hi s knees besi de Maur een, hi s hands on her, fr anti call y f eeli ng at her t hr oat f or a pul se.
When it fl utt er ed under hi s fi ngerti ps, f ai nt but st eady, he nearl y wept wit h r eli ef.
“ Get a way fr o m her.” Kyl e, soundi ng str ai ned, moved t o st and over Si mon. “Just get up and move a way.”
Si mon got up r el uct antl y and f aced Kyl e over Maur een’ s li mp f or m. Li ght was l anci ng t hr ough t he gap i n t he
curt ai ns t hat l ed t o t he st age; he coul d hear t he ot her band me mbers out t her e, chatt eri ng t o one anot her, st arti ng
t he t ear do wn. Any mi nut e t hey’ d be co mi ng back her e.
“ What you j ust di d,” Kyl e sai d. “ Di d you —push me? Because I di dn’t see you move.”
“I di dn’t mean t o,” Si mon sai d agai n, wr et chedl y. It see med t o be all he sai d t hese days.
Kyl e shook hi s head, hi s hair fl yi ng. “ Get out of her e. Go wait by t he van. I’ll deal wit h her.” He bent do wn and lift ed
Maur een i n hi s ar ms. She l ooked ti ny agai nst t he bul k of hi m, li ke a doll. He fi xed Si mon wit h a gl ar e. “ Go. And I
hope you feel really goddamn terrible.”
Si mon went. He moved t o t he fir e door and shoved it open. No al ar m went off; t he al ar m had been bust ed f or
mont hs. The door s wung shut behi nd hi m, and he l eaned up agai nst t he back wall of t he cl ub as every part of hi s
body began to tremble.
The cl ub backed ont o a narr o w str eet li ned wit h war ehouses. Acr oss t he way was a vacant l ot bl ocked off wit h a
saggi ng chai n-li nk f ence. Ugl y scr ub gr ass gr e w up t hr ough t he cr acks i n t he pave ment. Rai n was sheeti ng do wn,
soaki ng t he gar bage t hat litt er ed t he str eet, fl oati ng ol d beer cans on t he r unoff-fill ed gutt ers.
Si mon t hought it was t he most beautif ul t hi ng he’ d ever seen. The whol e ni ght see med t o have expl oded wit h
pri s mati c li ght. The f ence was a li nked chai n of brilli ant sil ver wir es, each r ai ndr op a pl ati nu m t ear.
I hope you f eel r eall y godda mn t erri bl e, Kyl e had sai d. But t hi s was much worse. He f elt f ant asti c, ali ve i n a way he
never had before. Human blood was clearly somehow the perfect, the ideal food for vampires. Waves of energy
wer e r unni ng t hr ough hi m li ke el ectri c curr ent. The pai n i n hi s head, hi s st o mach, was gone. He coul d have r un t en
thousand miles.
It was a wf ul.
“ Hey, you. Ar e you all ri ght ?” The voi ce t hat spoke was cult ur ed, a mused; Si mon t ur ned and sa w a wo man i n a
l ong bl ack tr ench coat, a bri ght yell o w u mbr ell a open over her head. Wit h hi s br and- ne w pri s mati c vi si on, it l ooked
li ke a gli mmeri ng sunfl o wer. The wo man herself was beautif ul —t hough everyt hi ng l ooked beautif ul t o hi m ri ght no w
—with gleaming black hair and a red-lipsticked mouth. He dimly recalled seeing her sitting at one of the tables
during the band’s performance.
He nodded, not tr usti ng hi mself t o speak. He must have l ooked pr ett y shell-shocked, if t ot al str angers wer e
coming up to inquire about his well-being.
“ You l ook li ke maybe you got banged on t he head t her e,” she sai d, i ndi cati ng hi s f or ehead. “ That’ s a nast y br ui se.
Ar e you sur e I can’t call anyone f or you?”
He r eached up hastil y t o move hi s hair acr oss hi s f or ehead, hi di ng t he Mark. “I’ m fi ne. It’ s not hi ng.”
“ Okay. If you say so.” She sounded a littl e doubtf ul. She r eached i nt o her pocket, pull ed out a car d, and handed it
t o hi m. It had a na me on it, Satri na Kendall. Under neat h t he na me was a titl e, BAND PROMOTER, i n s mall
capit al s, and a phone nu mber and addr ess. “ That’ s me,” she sai d. “I li ked what you guys di d i n t her e. If you’r e
i nt er est ed i n maki ng it a littl e mor e bi g-ti me, gi ve me a call.”
And wit h t hat, she t ur ned and sashayed a way, l eavi ng Si mon st ari ng aft er her. Sur el y, he t hought, t her e was no
way this night could get any more bizarre.
Shaki ng hi s head —a move t hat sent wat er dr ops fl yi ng i n all dir ecti ons —he squel ched ar ound t he cor ner t o wher e
t he van was parked. The door of t he bar was open, and peopl e wer e str ea mi ng out. Everyt hi ng still l ooked
unnat ur all y bri ght, Si mon t hought, but hi s pri s mati c vi si on was begi nni ng t o f ade sli ghtl y. The scene i n fr ont of hi m
looked ordinary—the bar emptying out, the side doors open, and the van with its back doors open, already being
l oaded up wit h gear by Matt, Kirk, and a vari et y of t heir fri ends. As Si mon dr e w cl oser, he sa w t hat Isabell e was
l eani ng agai nst t he si de of t he van, one l eg dr a wn up, t he heel of her boot br aced agai nst t he van’ s bli st er ed si de.
She could have been helping with the teardown, of course—Isabelle was stronger than anyone else in the band,
with the possible exception of Kyle—but she clearly couldn’t be bothered. Simon would hardly have expected
anything else.
She l ooked up as he ca me cl oser. The r ai n had sl o wed, but she had cl earl y been out i n it f or so me ti me; her hair
was a heavy, wet curt ai n do wn her back. “ Hey t her e,” she sai d, pushi ng off fr o m t he si de of t he van and co mi ng
t o war d hi m. “ Wher e have you been? You j ust r an off st age —”
“ Yeah,” he sai d. “I wasn’t f eeli ng well. Sorry.”
“ As l ong as you’r e bett er no w.” She wr apped her ar ms ar ound hi m and s mil ed up i nt o hi s f ace. He f elt a wave of
r eli ef t hat he di dn’t f eel any ur ge t o bit e her. Then anot her wave of guilt as he r e me mber ed why.
“You haven’t seen Jace anywhere, have you?” he asked.
She r oll ed her eyes. “I r an acr oss hi m and Cl ary maki ng out,” she sai d. “ Alt hough t hey’r e gone no w —ho me, I hope.
Those t wo epit o mi ze ‘ get a r oo m.’”
“I di dn’t t hi nk Cl ary was co mi ng,” Si mon sai d, t hough it wasn’t t hat odd; he supposed t he cake appoi nt ment had
been canceled or something. He didn’t even have the energy to be annoyed about what a terrible bodyguard Jace
had t ur ned out t o be. It wasn’t as if he’ d ever t hought Jace t ook hi s personal saf et y all t hat seri ousl y. He j ust hoped
Jace and Cl ary had worked it out, what ever it was.
“ What ever.” Isabell e gri nned. “ Si nce it’ s j ust us, do you want t o go so me wher e and —”
A voi ce —a very f a mili ar voi ce —spoke out of t he shado ws j ust beyond t he r each of t he near est str eetli ght.
“ Si mon?”
Oh, no, not no w. Not ri ght no w.
He t ur ned sl o wl y. Isabell e’ s ar m was still l oosel y cl asped ar ound hi s wai st, t hough he kne w t hat woul dn’t l ast much
l onger. Not if t he person speaki ng was who he t hought it was.
It was.
Mai a had moved i nt o t he li ght, and was st andi ng l ooki ng at hi m, an expr essi on of di sbeli ef on her f ace. Her
nor mall y curl y hair was past ed t o her head wit h r ai n, her a mber eyes very wi de, her j eans and deni m j acket
soaked. She was clutching a rolled-up piece of paper in her left hand.
Si mon was vaguel y a war e t hat off t o t he si de t he band me mbers had sl o wed do wn t heir move ment s and wer e
openl y ga wki ng. Isabell e’ s ar m sli d off hi s wai st. “ Si mon?” she sai d. “ What’ s goi ng on?”
“ You t ol d me you wer e goi ng t o be busy,” Mai a sai d, l ooki ng at Si mon. “ Then so meone shoved t hi s under t he
st ati on door t hi s mor ni ng.” She t hr ust t he r oll ed- up paper f or war d; it was i nst antl y r ecogni zabl e as one of t he fl yers
f or t he band’ s perf or mance t oni ght.
Isabell e was l ooki ng fr o m Si mon t o Mai a, r ecogniti on sl o wl y da wni ng on her f ace. “ Wait a second,” she sai d. “ Ar e
you t wo dati ng ?”
Mai a set her chi n. “ Ar e you?”
“ Yes,” Isabell e sai d. “ For quit e a f e w weeks no w.”
Maia’s eyes narrowed. “Us, too. We’ve been dating since September.”
“I can’t beli eve it,” Isabell e sai d. She genui nel y l ooked as if she coul dn’t. “ Si mon?” She t ur ned t o hi m, her hands on
her hips. “Do you have an explanation?”
The band, who had fi nall y shoved all t he equi p ment i nt o t he van —t he dr u ms packi ng out t he back bench seat and
t he guit ars and basses i n t he car go secti on —wer e hangi ng out t he back of t he car, openl y st ari ng. Eri c put hi s
hands ar ound hi s mout h t o make a megaphone. “ Ladi es, l adi es,” he i nt oned. “ Ther e i s no need t o fi ght. Ther e i s
enough Simon to go around.”
Isabell e whi pped ar ound and shot a gl ar e at Eri c so t errif yi ng t hat he f ell i nst antl y sil ent. The back doors of t he van
sl a mmed shut, and it t ook off do wn t he r oad. Tr ait ors, Si mon t hought, t hough t o be f air, t hey pr obabl y assu med he
would catch a ride home in Kyle’s car, which was parked around the corner. Assuming he lived long enough.
“I can’t beli eve you, Si mon,” Mai a sai d. She was st andi ng wit h her hands on her hi ps as well, i n a pose i denti cal t o
Isabell e’ s. “ What wer e you t hi nki ng? Ho w coul d you li e li ke t hat ?”
“I di dn’t li e,” Si mon pr ot est ed. “ We never sai d we wer e excl usi ve!” He t ur ned t o Isabell e. “ Neit her di d we! And I
know you were dating other people—”
“Not people ykonuo w ,” Isabell e sai d, bli st eri ngl y. “ Not your fri ends. Ho w woul d you f eel if you f ound out I was
dating Eric?”
“ St unned, fr ankl y,” sai d Si mon. “ He r eall y i sn’t your t ype.”
“ That’ s not t he poi nt, Si mon.” Mai a had moved cl oser t o Isabell e, and t he t wo of t he m f aced hi m do wn t oget her, an
i mmovabl e wall of f e mal e r age. The bar had fi ni shed e mpt yi ng out, and asi de fr o m t he t hr ee of t he m, t he str eet
was deserted. He wondered about his chances if he made a break for it, and decided they weren’t good.
Werewolves were fast, and Isabelle was a trained vampire hunter.
“I’ m r eall y sorry,” Si mon sai d. The buzz fr o m t he bl ood he’ d dr unk was begi nni ng t o wear off, t hankf ull y. He f elt l ess
di zzy wit h over whel mi ng sensati on, but mor e pani cked. To make t hi ngs worse, hi s mi nd kept r et ur ni ng t o
Maur een, and what he’ d done t o her, and whet her she was all ri ght. Pl ease l et her be all ri ght. “I shoul d have t ol d
you guys. It’ s j ust —I r eall y li ke you bot h, and I di dn’t want t o hurt eit her of your f eeli ngs.”
The mo ment it was out of hi s mout h, he r eali zed ho w st upi d he sounded. Just anot her j erki sh guy maki ng excuses
f or hi s j erk behavi or. Si mon had never t hought of hi mself li ke t hat. He was a ni ce guy, t he ki nd of guy who got
overl ooked, passed up f or t he sexy bad boy or t he t ort ur ed arti st t ype. For t he self-i nvol ved ki nd of guy who woul d
t hi nk not hi ng of dati ng t wo girl s at once whil e maybe not exacltlyiy ng about what he was doi ng, but not t elli ng t he
tr ut h about it eit her.
“ Wo w,” he sai d, mostl y t o hi mself. “I a m ha uge asshol e.”
“ That’ s pr obabl y t he first tr ue t hi ng you’ ve sai d si nce I got her e,” sai d Mai a.
“ A men,” sai d Isabell e. “ Though if you ask me, it’ s t oo littl e, t oo l at e —”
The si de door of t he bar opened, and so meone ca me out. It was Kyl e. Si mon f elt a wave of r eli ef. Kyl e l ooked
seri ous, but not as seri ous as Si mon t hought he woul d l ook if so met hi ng a wf ul had happened t o Maur een.
He st art ed do wn t he st eps t o war d t he m. The r ai n was bar el y a dri zzl e no w. Mai a and Isabell e had t heir backs t o
hi m; t hey wer e gl ari ng at Si mon wit h t he l aser f ocus of r age. “I hope you don’t expeceti ther of us t o speak t o you
agai n,” Isabell e sai d. “ And I’ m goi ng t o have a t al k wit h Cl ary —a very, very seri ous t al k about her choi ce of
fri ends.”
“ Kyl e,” Si mon sai d, unabl e t o keep t he r eli ef out of hi s voi ce as Kyl e ca me i nt o earshot. “ Uh, Maur een —i s she —”
He had no idea how to ask what he wanted to ask without letting Maia and Isabelle know what had happened, but
as it t ur ned out, it di dn’t matt er, because he never managed t o get t he r est of t he wor ds out. Mai a and Isabell e
turned; Isabelle looked annoyed and Maia surprised, clearly wondering who Kyle was.
As soon as Mai a r eall y sa w Kyl e, her f ace changed; her eyes went wi de, t he bl ood dr ai ni ng fr o m her f ace. And
Kyl e, i n hi s t ur n, was st ari ng at her wit h t he l ook of so meone who has woken up fr o m a ni ght mar e onl y t o di scover
t hat it i s r eal and conti nui ng. Hi s mout h moved, shapi ng wor ds, but no sound ca me out.
“ Whoa,” Isabell e sai d, l ooki ng fr o m one of t he m t o t he ot her. “ Do you t wo —kno w each ot her ?”
Mai a’ s li ps part ed. She was still st ari ng at Kyl e. Si mon had ti me onl y t o t hi nk t hat she had never l ooked at hi m wit h
anyt hi ng li ke t hat i nt ensit y, when she whi sper ed “ Jor dan” —and l unged f or Kyl e, her cl a ws out and shar p, and sank
t he m i nt o hi s t hr oat.
Part Two
For Every Life
Not hi ng i s fr ee. Everyt hi ng has t o be pai d f or .
For every pr ofit i n one t hi ng, pay ment i n so me ot her t hi ng. For every lif e, a deat h. Even your musi c, of whi ch we
have hear d so much, t hat had t o be pai d f or. Your wif e was t he pay ment f or your musi c. Hell i s no w sati sfi ed .
—Ted Hughes, “The Tiger’s Bones”
10
RI VERSI DE DRI VE
Si mon sat i n t he ar mchair i n Kyl e’ s li vi ng r oo m and st ar ed a t t he fr ozen i mage on t he TV scr een i n t he
cor ner of t he r oo m. It had been paused on t he ga me Kyl e had been pl ayi ng wit h Jace, and t he i mage was one of a
dank-looking underground tunnel with a heap of collapsed bodies on the ground and some very realistic-looking
pool s of bl ood. It was di st ur bi ng, but Si mon di dn’t have eit her t he ener gy or t he i ncli nati on t o bot her t o t ur n it off.
The i mages t hat had been r unni ng t hr ough hi s head all ni ght wer e worse.
The li ght str ea mi ng i nt o t he r oo m t hr ough t he wi ndo ws had str engt hened fr o m wat ery da wn li ght t o t he pal e
ill u mi nati on of earl y mor ni ng, but Si mon bar el y noti ced. He kept seei ng Maur een’ s li mp body on t he gr ound, her
bl ond hair st ai ned wit h bl ood. Hi s o wn st aggeri ng pr ogr ess out i nt o t he ni ght, her bl ood si ngi ng t hr ough hi s vei ns.
And t hen Mai a l ungi ng at Kyl e, t eari ng i nt o hi m wit h her cl a ws. Kyl e had l ai n t her e, not lifti ng a hand t o def end
hi mself. He pr obabl y woul d have l et her kill hi m if Isabell e hadn’t i nt erf er ed, pulli ng Mai a bodil y off hi m and r olli ng
her ont o t he pave ment, hol di ng her t her e until her r age di ssol ved i nt o t ears. Si mon had tri ed t o go t o her, but
Isabell e had hel d hi m off wit h a f uri ous gl ar e, her ar m ar ound t he ot her girl, her hand up t o war d hi m off.
“ Get out of her e,” she’ d sai d. “ And t ake hi m wit h you. I don’t kno w what he di d t o her, but it must have been pr ett y
bad.”
And it was. Si mon kne w t hat na me, Jor dan. It had co me up bef or e, when he’ d asked her ho w she’ d been t ur ned
i nt o a wer e wolf. Her ex- boyfri end had done it, she’ d sai d. He’ d done it wit h a savage and vi ci ous att ack, and he’ d
r un off aft er war d, l eavi ng her t o deal wit h t he aft er mat h al one.
His name had been Jordan.
That was why Kyl e had onl y one na me next t o hi s door buzzer. Because it was hi s l ast na me. Hi s f ull na me must
have been Jor dan Kyl e, Si mon r eali zed. He’ d been st upi d, unbeli evabl y st upi d, not t o have fi gur ed it out bef or e.
Not t hat he needed anot her r eason t o hat e hi mself ri ght no w.
Kyl e —or r at her, Jor dan —was a wer e wolf; he heal ed f ast. By t he ti me Si mon had haul ed hi m, none t oo gentl y, t o
hi s f eet and had l ed hi m back over t o hi s car, t he deep sl ashes i n hi s t hr oat and under t he t or n r ags of hi s shirt had
heal ed t o cr ust ed- over scars. Si mon had t aken hi s keys fr o m hi m and dri ven t he m back t o Manhatt an mostl y i n
sil ence, Jor dan sitti ng al most moti onl ess i n t he passenger seat, st ari ng do wn at hi s bl oody hands.
“ Maur een’ s fi ne,” he’ d sai d fi nall y as t hey dr ove over t he Willi a msbur g Bri dge. “It l ooked worse t han it was. You’r e
not t hat good at f eedi ng off hu mans yet, so she hadn’t l ost t oo much bl ood. I put her i n a cab. She doesn’t
r e me mber anyt hi ng. She t hi nks she f ai nt ed i n fr ont of you, and she’ s r eall y e mbarr assed.”
Si mon kne w he ought t o t hank Jor dan, but he coul dn’t bri ng hi mself t o do it. “ You’r e Jor dan,” he sai d. “ Mai a’ s ol d
boyfri end. The one who t ur ned her i nt o a wer e wolf.”
They wer e on Ken mar e no w; Si mon t ur ned nort h, headi ng up t he Bo wery wit h it s fl ophouses and li ghti ng st or es.
“ Yeah,” Jor dan sai d at l ast. “ Kyl e’ s my l ast na me. I st art ed t o go by it when I j oi ned t he Pr aet or.”
“She would’ve killed you if Isabelle had let her.”
“ She has a perf ect ri ght t o kill me if she want s t o,” sai d Jor dan, and f ell sil ent. He di dn’t say anyt hi ng el se as
Si mon f ound parki ng and t hey tr udged up t he st airs t o t he apart ment. He’ d gone i nt o hi s r oo m wit hout even t aki ng
off hi s bl oody j acket, and sl a mmed t he door.
Simon had packed his things into his backpack and had been about to leave the apartment when he’d hesitated.
He wasn’t sur e why, even no w, but i nst ead of l eavi ng he’ d dr opped hi s bag by t he door and co me back t o sit i n
t hi s chair, wher e he’ d st ayed all ni ght.
He wi shed he coul d call Cl ary, but it was t oo earl y i n t he mor ni ng, and besi des, Isabell e had sai d she and Jace
had gone off t oget her, and t he t hought of i nt err upti ng so me speci al mo ment of t heirs wasn’t appeali ng. He
wonder ed ho w hi s mot her was. If she coul d have seen hi m l ast ni ght, wit h Maur een, she woul d have t hought he
was every bit t he monst er she’ d accused hi m of bei ng.
Maybe he was.
He looked up as Jordan’s door cracked open and Jordan emerged. He was barefoot, still in the same jeans and
shirt he’ d been weari ng yest er day. The scars on hi s t hr oat had f aded t o r ed li nes. He l ooked at Si mon. Hi s hazel
eyes, nor mall y so bri ght and cheerf ul, wer e darkl y shado wed. “I t hought you woul d l eave,” he sai d.
“I was goi ng t o,” Si mon sai d. “ But t hen I fi gur ed I ought t o gi ve you a chance t o expl ai n.”
“ Ther e’ s not hi ng t o expl ai n.” Jor dan shuffl ed i nt o t he kit chen and dug ar ound i n a dr a wer until he pr oduced a
coff ee filt er. “ What ever Mai a sai d about me, I’ m sur e it was tr ue.”
“ She sai d you hit her,” Si mon sai d.
Jor dan, i n t he kit chen, went very still. He l ooked do wn at t he filt er as if he wer e no l onger quit e sur e what it was f or.
“ She sai d you guys went out f or mont hs and everyt hi ng was gr eat,” Si mon went on. “ Then you t ur ned vi ol ent and
j eal ous. When she call ed you on it, you hit her. She br oke up wit h you, and when she was wal ki ng ho me one ni ght,
so met hi ng att acked her and nearl y kill ed her. And you —you t ook off out of t o wn. No apol ogy, no expl anati on.”
Jor dan set t he filt er do wn on t he count er. “ Ho w di d she get her e? Ho w di d she fi nd Luke Garr o way’ s pack?”
Si mon shook hi s head. “ She hopped a tr ai n t o Ne w York and tr acked t he m do wn. She’ s a survi vor, Mai a. She
di dn’t l et what you di d t o her wr eck her. A l ot of peopl e woul d have.”
“Is t hi s why you st ayed?” asked Jor dan. “ To t ell me I’ m a bast ar d? Because I alr eady kno w t hat.”
“I st ayed,” Si mon sai d, “ because of what I di d l ast ni ght. If I’ d f ound out about you yest er day, I woul d have l eft. But
aft er what I di d t o Maur een . . .” He che wed hi s li p. “I t hought I had contr ol over what happened t o me and I di dn’t,
and I hurt so meone who di dn’t deserve it. So t hat’ s why I’ m st ayi ng.”
“ Because if I’ m not a monst er, t hen you’r e not a monst er.”
“ Because I want t o kno w ho w t o go on, no w, and maybe you can t ell me.” Si mon l eaned f or war d. “ Because you’ ve
been a good guy t o me si nce I met you. I’ ve never seen you be mean or get angry. And t hen I t hought about t he
Wolf Guar d, and ho w you sai d you j oi ned it because you’ d done bad t hi ngs. And I t hought Mai a was maybe t he
bad t hi ng you’ d done t hat you wer e tryi ng t o make up f or.”
“I was,” sai d Jor dan. “ She i s.”
Cl ary sat at her desk i n Luke’ s s mall spar e r oo m, t he scr ap of cl ot h she’ d t aken fr o m t he Bet h Isr ael mor gue
spr ead out i n fr ont of her. She’ d wei ght ed it do wn on eit her si de wit h pencil s and was hoveri ng over it, st el e i n
hand, tryi ng t o r e me mber t he r une t hat had co me t o her i n t he hospit al.
It was har d t o concentr at e. She kept t hi nki ng about Jace, about l ast ni ght. Wher e he mi ght have gone. Why he was
so unhappy. She hadn’t r eali zed until she had seen hi m t hat he was as mi ser abl e as she was, and it t or e at her
heart. She want ed t o call hi m, but had hel d herself back fr o m doi ng so sever al ti mes si nce she’ d gott en ho me. If
he was goi ng t o t ell her what t he pr obl e m was, he’ d have t o do it wit hout bei ng asked. She kne w hi m well enough
t o kno w t hat.
She cl osed her eyes, and tri ed t o f orce herself t o pi ct ur e t he r une. It wasn’t one she’ d i nvent ed, she was pr ett y
sur e. It was one t hat act uall y exi st ed, t hough she wasn’t sur e she’ d seen it i n t he Gr ay Book. It s shape spoke t o
her l ess of tr ansl ati on t han of r evel ati on, of sho wi ng t he shape of so met hi ng hi dden bel o wgr ound, bl o wi ng t he dust
a way fr o m it sl o wl y t o r ead t he i nscri pti on beneat h. . . .
The st el e t wit ched i n her fi ngers, and she opened her eyes t o fi nd, t o her sur pri se, t hat she’ d managed t o tr ace a
s mall patt er n on t he edge of t he f abri c. It l ooked al most li ke a bl ot, wit h odd bit s goi ng off every whi ch way, and
she fr o wned, wonderi ng if she was l osi ng her skill. But t he f abri c began t o shi mmer, li ke heat ri si ng off hot
bl ackt op. She st ar ed as wor ds unf ol ded acr oss t he cl ot h as if an i nvi si bl e hand was writi ng t he m:
Pr opert y of t he Church of Talt o. 232 Ri versi de Dri ve.
A hu m of excit e ment went t hr ough her. It was a cl ue, a r eal cl ue. And she’ d f ound it herself, wit hout any hel p fr o m
anyone else.
232 Ri versi de Dri ve. That was on t he Upper West Si de, she t hought, by Ri versi de Park, j ust acr oss t he wat er fr o m
Ne w Jersey. Not t hat l ong a tri p at all. The Church of Talt o. Cl ary set t he st el e do wn wit h a worri ed fr o wn. What ever
t hat was, it sounded li ke bad ne ws. She scoot ed her chair over t o Luke’ s ol d deskt op co mput er and pull ed up t he
I nt er net. She coul dn’t say she was sur pri sed t hat t ypi ng i n “ Church of Talt o” pr oduced no co mpr ehensi bl e r esult s.
What ever had been writt en t her e on t he cor ner of t he cl ot h had been i n Pur gati c, or Ct honi an, or so me ot her
demon language.
One t hi ng she was sur e of: What ever t he Church of Talt o was, it was secr et, and pr obabl y bad. If it was mi xed up
with turning human babies into things wit h cl a ws f or hands, it wasn’t any ki nd of a r eal r eli gi on. Cl ary wonder ed if
t he mot her who’ d du mped her baby near t he hospit al was a me mber of t he c hurch, and if she kne w what she’ d
gotten herself into before her baby was born.
She f elt col d all over as she r eached f or her phone —and paused wit h it i n hand. She had been about t o call her
mot her, but she coul dn’t call Jocel yn about t hi s. Jocel yn had onl y j ust st opped cryi ng and agr eed t o go out, wit h
Luke, t o l ook at ri ngs. And whil e Cl ary t hought her mot her was str ong enough t o handl e what ever t he tr ut h t ur ned
out t o be, she’ d doubtl ess get i n massi ve tr oubl e wit h t he Cl ave f or havi ng t aken her i nvesti gati on t hi s f ar wit hout
infor ming them.
Luke. But Luke was wit h her mot her. She coul dn’t call hi m.
Maryse, maybe. The mer e i dea of calli ng her see med ali en and i nti mi dati ng. Pl us, Cl ary kne w —wit hout quit e
wanti ng t o ad mit t o herself t hat it was a f act or —t hat if she l et t he Cl ave t ake t hi s over, she’ d be benched. Pushed
off t o t he si deli nes of a myst ery t hat see med i nt ensel y personal. Not t o menti on t hat it f elt li ke betr ayi ng her mot her
t o t he Cl ave.
But t o go r unni ng off on her o wn, not kno wi ng what she’ d fi nd . . . Well, she had tr ai ni ng, but not t hat much tr ai ni ng.
And she kne w she had a t endency t o act first, t hi nk l at er. Rel uct antl y she pull ed t he phone t o war d her, hesit at ed a
mo ment —and sent a qui ck t ext: 232 RI VERSI DE DRI VE. YOU NEED T O MEET ME THERE RI GHT A WAY. I T’ S
I MP ORTANT. She hit t he send butt on and sat f or a mo ment until t he scr een lit up wit h an ans weri ng buzz: OK.
Wit h a si gh Cl ary set do wn t he phone, and went t o get her weapons.
“I l oved Mai a,” Jor dan sai d. He was sitti ng on t he f ut on no w, havi ng fi nall y managed t o make coff ee, t hough he
hadn’t dr unk any of it. He was j ust hol di ng t he mug i n hi s hands, t ur ni ng it ar ound and ar ound as he t al ked. “ You
have t o kno w t hat, bef or e I t ell you anyt hi ng el se. We bot h ca me fr o m t hi s di s mal hell hol e of a t o wn i n Ne w Jersey,
and she got endl ess cr ap because her dad was bl ack and her mo m was whit e. She had a br ot her, t oo, who was a
t ot al psychopat h. I don’t kno w if she t ol d you about hi m. Dani el.”
“ Not much,” Si mon sai d.
“ Wit h all t hat, her lif e was pr ett y helli sh, but she di dn’t l et it get her do wn. I met her i n a musi c st or e, buyi ng ol d
r ecor ds. Vi nyl, ri ght. We got t o t al ki ng, and I r eali zed she was basi call y t he cool est girl f or mil es ar ound. Beautif ul,
t oo. And s weet.” Jor dan’ s eyes wer e di st ant. “ We went out, and it was f ant asti c. We wer e t ot all y i n l ove. The way
you ar e when you’r e si xt een. Then I got bit. I was i n a fi ght one ni ght, at a cl ub. I used t o get i nt o fi ght s a l ot. I was
used t o getti ng ki cked and punched, but bitt en? I t hought t he guy who’ d done it was cr azy, but what ever. I went t o
t he hospit al, got stit ched up, f or got about it.
“ About t hr ee weeks l at er it st art ed t o hit. Waves of uncontr oll abl e r age and anger. My vi si on woul d j ust bl ack out,
and I woul dn’t kno w what was happeni ng. I punched my hand t hr ough my kit chen wi ndo w because a dr a wer was
st uck shut. I was cr azy j eal ous about Mai a, convi nced she was l ooki ng at ot her guys, convi nced . . . I don’t even
kno w what I t hought. I j ust kno w I snapped. I hit her. I want t o say I don’t r e me mber doi ng it, but I do. And t hen she
br oke up wit h me. . . .” Hi s voi ce tr ail ed off. He t ook a s wall o w of coff ee; he l ooked si ck, Si mon t hought. He must
not have t ol d t hi s st ory much bef or e. Or ever. “ A coupl e ni ght s l at er I went t o a part y and she was t her e. Danci ng
wit h anot her guy. Ki ssi ng hi m li ke she want ed t o pr ove t o me it was over. It was a bad ni ght f or her t o choose, not
t hat she coul d have kno wn t hat. It was t he first f ull moon si nce I’ d been bitt en.” Hi s knuckl es wer e whit e wher e he
gri pped t he cup. “ The first ti me I ever Changed. The tr ansf or mati on ri pped t hr ough my body and t or e my bones
and ski n apart. I was i n agony, and not j ust because of t hat. I want ed her, want ed her t o co me back, want ed t o
expl ai n, but all I coul d do was ho wl. I t ook off r unni ng t hr ough t he str eet s, and t hat was when I sa w her, cr ossi ng t he
park near her house. She was goi ng ho me. . . .”
“ And you att acked her,” Si mon sai d. “ You bit her.”
“ Yeah.” Jor dan st ar ed bli ndl y i nt o t he past. “ When I woke up t he next mor ni ng, I kne w what I’ d done. I tri ed t o go t o
her house, t o expl ai n. I was half way t her e when a bi g guy st epped i nt o my pat h and st ar ed me do wn. He kne w who
I was, knew everything about me. He explained he was a member of the Praetor Lupus and he’d been assigned
t o me. He wasn’t t oo happy t hat he’ d gott en t her e t oo l at e, t hat I’ d alr eady bitt en so meone. He woul dn’t l et me go
any wher e near her. He sai d I’ d j ust make it worse. He pr o mi sed t he Wolf Guar d woul d be wat chi ng over her. He
t ol d me t hat si nce I’ d bitt en a hu man alr eady, whi ch was stri ctl y f or bi dden, t he onl y way I’ d evade puni sh ment was
t o j oi n t he Guar d and get tr ai ned t o contr ol myself.
“I woul dn’t have done it. I woul d have spit on hi m and t aken what ever puni sh ment t hey want ed t o hand out. I hat ed
myself t hat much. But when he expl ai ned t hat I’ d be abl e t o hel p ot her peopl e li ke me, maybe st op what had
happened t o me and Mai a fr o m happeni ng agai n, it was li ke I sa w a li ght i n t he darkness, way off i n t he f ut ur e.
Li ke maybe it was a chance t o fi x what I’ d done.”
“ Okay,” Si mon sai d sl o wl y. “ But i sn’t it ki nd of a weir d coi nci dence t hat you wound up assi gned t o me? A guy who
was dati ng t he girl you once bit and t ur ned i nt o a wer e wolf ?”
“ No coi nci dence,” Jor dan sai d. “ Your fil e was one of a bunch I got handed. I pi cked you because Maia was
menti oned i n t he not es. A wer e wolf and a va mpir e dati ng. You kno w, it’ s ki nd of a bi g deal. It was t he first ti me I
r eali zed she’ d beco me a wer e wolf aft er I —aft er what I di d.”
“ You never checked up t o fi nd out ? That see ms ki nd of —”
“I tri ed. The Pr aet or di dn’t want me t o, but I di d what I coul d t o fi nd out what happened t o her. I kne w she r an a way
fr o m ho me, but she had a cr appy ho me lif e any way, so t hat di dn’t t ell me anyt hi ng. And it’ s not li ke t her e’ s so me
nati onal r egi stry of wer e wol ves wher e I coul d l ook her up. I j ust . . . hoped she hadn’t Tur ned.”
“So you took my assignment because of Maia?”
Jor dan fl ushed. “I t hought maybe if I met you, I coul d fi nd out what happened t o her. If she was okay.”
“ That’ s why you t ol d me off f or t wo-ti mi ng her,” sai d Si mon, t hi nki ng back. “ You wer e bei ng pr ot ecti ve.”
Jor dan gl ar ed at hi m over t he ri m of t he coff ee cup. “ Yeah, well, it was a j erk move.”
“And you’re the one who shoved the flyer for the band performance under her door. Aren’t you?” Simon shook his
head. “ So, was messi ng wit h my l ove lif e part of t he assi gn ment, or j ust your personal extr a t ouch?”
“I scr e wed her over,” Jor dan sai d. “I di dn’t want t o see her scr e wed over by so meone el se.”
“ And it di dn’t occur t o you t hat if she sho wed up at our perf or mance she’ d try t o ri p your f ace off ? If she hadn’t
been late, maybe she even would have done it while you were onstage. That would have been an exciting extra for
the audience.”
“I di dn’t kno w,” Jor dan sai d. “I di dn’t r eali ze she hat ed me so much. I mean, I don’t hat e t he guy who Tur ned me; I
ki nd of underst and t hat he mi ght not have been i n contr ol of hi mself.”
“ Yeah,” sai d Si mon, “ but you never l oved t hat guy. You never had a r el ati onshi p wit h hi m. Mai a l oved you. She
t hi nks you bit her and t hen you dit ched and never t hought about her agai n. She’ s goi ng t o hat e you as much as
she loved you once.”
Before Jordan could reply, the doorbell rang—not the buzzer that would have sounded if someone had been
do wnst airs, calli ng up, but t he one t hat coul d be r ung onl y if t he vi sit or was st andi ng i n t he hall way out si de t heir
door. The boys exchanged baffled looks. “Are you expecting someone?” Simon asked.
Jor dan shook hi s head and put t he coff ee cup do wn. Toget her t hey went i nt o t he s mall entry way. Jor dan gest ur ed
for Simon to stand behind him before he swung the door open.
Ther e was no one t her e. I nst ead t her e was a f ol ded pi ece of paper on t he wel co me mat, wei ghed do wn by a
soli d-l ooki ng hunk of r ock. Jor dan bent t o fr ee t he paper and str ai ght ened up wit h a fr o wn.
“It’ s f or you,” he sai d, handi ng it t o Si mon.
Puzzl ed, Si mon unf ol ded t he paper. Pri nt ed acr oss t he cent er, i n chil di sh bl ock l ett ers, was t he message:
SI MON L E WI S. WE HAVE YOUR GI RLF RI END. YOU MUST COME T O 232 RI VERSI DE DRI VE T ODAY. BE
THERE BEF ORE DARK OR WE WI LL CUT HER THROAT.
“It’ s a j oke,” Si mon sai d, st ari ng nu mbl y at t he paper. “It has t o be.”
Wit hout a wor d Jor dan gr abbed Si mon’ s ar m and haul ed hi m i nt o t he li vi ng r oo m. Letti ng go of hi m, he r oot ed
ar ound f or t he cor dl ess phone until he f ound it. “ Call her,” he sai d, sl appi ng t he phone agai nst Si mon’ s chest. “ Call
Mai a and make sur e she’ s all ri ght.”
“ But it mi ght not be her.” Si mon st ar ed do wn at t he phone as t he f ull horr or of t he sit uati on buzzed ar ound hi s br ai n
li ke a ghoul buzzi ng ar ound t he out si de of a house, beggi ng t o be l et i n. Focus, he t ol d hi mself. Don’t p“Iatni.c
might be Isabelle.”
“ Oh, Jesus.” Jor dan gl o wer ed at hi m. “ Do you have any ot her girlfri ends? Do we have t o make a li st of na mes t o
call ?”
Simon yanked the phone away from him and turned away, punching in the number.
Maia answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Maia—it’s Simon.”
The fri endli ness went out of her voi ce. “ Oh. What do you want ?”
“I j ust want ed t o check t hat you wer e okay,” he sai d.
“I’ m fi ne.” She spoke stiffl y. “It’ s not li ke what was goi ng on wit h us was all t hat seri ous. I’ m not happy, but I’ll li ve.
You’r e still an ass, t hough.”
“ No,” Si mon sai d. “I mean I want ed t o check t hat you wer e okay.”
“Is t hi s about Jor dan?” He coul d hear t he t ense anger when she sai d hi s na me. “ Ri ght. You guys went off t oget her,
di dn’t you? You’r e fri ends or so met hi ng, ri ght ? Well, you can t ell hi m t o st ay a way fr o m me. I n f act, t hat goes f or
bot h of you.”
She hung up. The dial tone buzzed down the phone like an angry bee.
Si mon l ooked at Jor dan. “ She’ s fi ne. She hat es us bot h, but it r eall y di dn’t sound li ke anyt hi ng el se was wr ong.”
“ Fi ne,” Jor dan sai d ti ghtl y. “ Call Isabell e.”
It t ook t wo tri es bef or e Izzy pi cked up; Si mon was nearl y i n a pani c by t he ti me her voi ce ca me do wn t he li ne,
sounding distracted and annoyed. “Whoever this is, it had better be good.”
Reli ef pour ed t hr ough hi s vei ns. “Isabell e. It’ s Si mon.”
“ Oh, f or God’ s sake. What dyoou want?”
“I j ust want ed t o make sur e you wer e okay —”
“ Oh, what, I’ m supposed t o be devast at ed because you’r e a cheati ng, l yi ng, t wo-ti mi ng son of a —”
“ No.” Thi s was r eall y st arti ng t o wear on Si mon’ s nerves. “I meant, ar e you all ri ght ? You haven’t been ki dnapped
or anything?”
Ther e was a l ong sil ence. “ Si mon,” Isabell e sai d fi nall y. “ Thi s i s r eall y, seri ousl y, t he st upi dest excuse f or a whi ny
makeup call t hat I have ever, ever hear d. What ’ swrong with you?”
“I’ m not sur e,” Si mon sai d, and hung up bef or e she coul d hang up on hi m. He handed t he phone t o Jor dan. “ She’ s
fi ne t oo.”
“I don’t get it.” Jor dan l ooked be wil der ed. “ Who makes a t hr eat li ke t hat if it’ s t ot all y e mpt y? I mean, it’ s so easy t o
check and fi nd out it’ s a li e.”
“ They must t hi nk I’ m st upi d,” Si mon began, and t hen paused, a horri bl e t hought da wni ng on hi m. He snat ched t he
phone back fr o m Jor dan and st art ed t o di al wit h nu mb fi ngers.
“ Who i s it ?” Jor dan sai d. “ Who ar e you calli ng?”
Cl ary’ s phone r ang j ust as she t ur ned t he cor ner of Ni net y-si xt h Str eet ont o Ri versi de Dri ve. The r ai n see med t o
have washed a way t he cit y’ s usual dirt; t he sun shone do wn fr o m a brilli ant sky ont o t he bri ght gr een stri p of t he
park running alongside the river, whose water looked nearly blue today.
She dug i nt o her bag f or her phone, f ound it, and fli pped it open. “ Hell o?”
Si mon’ s voi ce ca me do wn t he li ne. “ Oh, t hank —” He br oke off. “ Ar e you all ri ght ? You’r e not ki dnapped or
anything?”
“Kidnapped?” Cl ary peer ed up at t he nu mbers of t he buil di ngs as she wal ked upt o wn. 220, 224. She wasn’t
entirely sure what she was looking for. Would it look like a church? Something else, glamoured to look like an
abandoned lot? “Are you drunk or something?”
“It’ s a littl e earl y f or t hat.” The r eli ef i n hi s voi ce was pl ai n. “ No, I j ust —I got a weir d not e. So meone t hr eat eni ng t o
go aft er my girlfri end.”
“ Which one?”
“Har de har.” Simon did not sound amused. “I called Maia and Isabelle already, and they’re both fine. Then I
t hought of you —I mean, we spend a l ot of ti me t oget her. So meone mi ght get t he wr ong i dea. But no w I don’t kno w
what t o t hi nk.”
“I dunno.” 232 Ri versi de Dri ve l oo med up i n fr ont of Cl ary suddenl y, a bi g squar e st one buil di ng wit h a poi nt ed
r oof. It coul d have been a church at one poi nt, she t hought, t hough it di dn’t l ook much li ke one no w.
“ Mai a and Isabell e f ound out about each ot her l ast ni ght, by t he way. It wasn’t pr ett y,” Si mon added. “ You wer e
ri ght about t he pl ayi ng- wit h-fir e bit.”
Clary examined the facade of number 232. Most of the edifices lining the drive were expensive apartment
buil di ngs, wit h door men i n li very waiti ng i nsi de. Thi s one, t hough, had onl y a set of t all wooden doors wit h curved
t ops, and ol d-f ashi oned-l ooki ng met al handl es i nst ead of doorknobs. “ Ooh, ouch. Sorry, Si mon. Ar e eit her of t he m
speaking to you?”
“ Not r eall y.”
She t ook hol d of one of t he handl es, and pushed. The door sli d open wit h a soft hi ssi ng noi se. Cl ary dr opped her
voi ce. “ Maybe one of t he m l eft t he not e?”
“It doesn’t r eall y see m li ke t heir st yl e,” sai d Si mon, soundi ng genui nel y puzzl ed. “ Do you t hi nk Jace woul d have
done it?”
The sound of hi s na me was li ke a punch t o t he st o mach. Cl ary caught her br eat h and sai d, “I r eall y don’t t hi nk he’ d
do t hat, even if he was angry.” She dr e w t he phone a way fr o m her ear. Peeri ng ar ound t he half- open door, she
could see what looked reassuringly like the inside of a normal church—a long aisle, and flickering lights like
candl es. Sur el y it coul dn’t hurt j ust t o t ake a peek i nsi de. “I have t o go, Si mon,” she sai d. “I’ll call you l at er.”
She flipped her phone closed and stepped inside.
“ You r eall y t hi nk it was a j oke?” Jor dan was pr o wli ng up and do wn t he apart ment li ke a ti ger paci ng it s cage at t he
zoo. “I dunno. It see ms li ke a r eall y si ck sort of j oke t o me.”
“I di dn’t say it wasn’t si ck.” Si mon gl anced at t he not e; it l ay on t he coff ee t abl e, t he bl ock- pri nt ed l ett ers cl earl y
vi si bl e even at a di st ance. Just l ooki ng at it gave hi m a l urchi ng f eeli ng i n hi s st o mach, even t hough he kne w it was
meani ngl ess. “I’ m j ust tryi ng t o t hi nk who mi ght have sent it. And why.”
“ Maybe I shoul d t ake t he day off wat chi ng you and keep an eye on her,” sai d Jor dan. “ You kno w, j ust i n case.”
“I assu me you’r e t al ki ng about Mai a,” sai d Si mon. “I kno w you mean well, but I r eall y don’t t hi nk she want s you
ar ound. I n any capacit y.”
Jor dan’ s j a w ti ght ened. “I’ d st ay out of t he way so she woul dn’t see me.”
“ Wo w. You’r e still r eall y i nt o her, ar en’t you?”
“I have a personal r esponsi bilit y.” Jor dan sounded stiff. “ What ever el se I f eel doesn’t matt er.”
“ You can do what you want,” Si mon sai d. “ But I t hi nk —”
The door buzzer sounded again. The two boys exchanged a single look before both bolting down the narrow
hall way t o t he door. Jor dan got t her e first. He gr abbed f or t he coatr ack t hat st ood by t he door, ri pped t he coat s off
it, and fl ung t he door wi de, t he r ack hel d above hi s head li ke a j aveli n.
On t he ot her si de of t he door was Jace. He bli nked. “Is t hat a coatr ack?”
Jordan slammed the coatrack down on the ground and sighed. “If you’d been a vampire, this would have been a
l ot mor e usef ul.”
“ Yes,” sai d Jace. “ Or, you kno w, j ust so meone wit h a l ot of coat s.”
Si mon st uck hi s head ar ound Jor dan and sai d, “ Sorry. We’ ve had a str essf ul mor ni ng.”
“ Yeah, well,” sai d Jace. “It’ s about t o get mor e str essf ul. I ca me t o bri ng you t o t he I nstit ut e, Si mon. The Concl ave
want s t o see you, and t hey don’t li ke havi ng t o wait.”
The mo ment t he door of t he Church of Talt o shut behi nd Cl ary, she f elt t hat she was i n anot her worl d, t he noi se
and bustl e of Ne w York Cit y entir el y shut out. The space i nsi de t he buil di ng was bi g and l oft y, wit h hi gh ceili ngs
soaring above. There was a narrow aisle banked by rows of pews, and fat brown candles burned in sconces
bolt ed al ong t he wall s. The i nt eri or see med di ml y lit t o Cl ary, but per haps t hat was j ust because she was used t o
t he bri ght ness of wit chli ght.
She moved al ong t he ai sl e, t he tr ead of her sneakers soft agai nst t he dust y st one. It was odd, she t hought, a
church wit h no wi ndo ws at all. At t he end of t he ai sl e she r eached t he apse, wher e a set of st one st eps l ed t o a
podi u m on whi ch was di spl ayed an alt ar. She bli nked up at it, r eali zi ng what el se was str ange: Ther e wer e no
cr osses i n t hi s church. I nst ead t her e was an upri ght st one t abl et on t he alt ar, cr o wned by t he carved fi gur e of an
o wl. The wor ds on t he t abl et r ead:
F OR HER HOUSE I NCLI NETH UNTO DEATH,
AND HER PATHS UNT O THE DEAD.
NONE THAT GO UNTO HER RETURN A GAI N,
NEI THER TAKE THEY HOL D OF THE PATHS OF LI FE.
Cl ary bli nked. She wasn’t t oo f a mili ar wit h t he Bi bl e —she cert ai nl y di dn’t have anyt hi ng li ke Jace’ s near- perf ect
r ecall of l ar ge passages of it —but whil e t hat sounded r eli gi ous, it was al so an odd bit of t ext t o f eat ur e i n a church.
She shi ver ed, and dr e w cl oser t o t he alt ar, wher e a l ar ge cl osed book had been l eft out. One of t he pages
see med t o be marked; when Cl ary r eached t o open t he book, she r eali zed t hat what she’ d t hought was a
bookmark was a black-handled dagger carved with occult symbols. She’d seen pictures of these before in her
t ext books. It was an at ha me, oft en used i n de moni c su mmoni ng rit ual s.
Her st o mach went col d, but she bent t o scan t he marked page any way, det er mi ned t o l ear n so met hi ng —onl y t o
di scover t hat it was writt en i n a cr a mped, st yli zed hand t hat woul d have been har d t o deci pher had t he book been
i n Engli sh. It wasn’t; it was i n a shar p, spi ky-l ooki ng al phabet t hat she was sur e she’ d never seen bef or e. The
wor ds wer e bel o w an ill ustr ati on of what Cl ary r ecogni zed as a su mmoni ng circl e —t he ki nd of patt er n warl ocks
traced on the ground before they enacted spells. The circles were meant to draw down and concentrate magical
po wer. Thi s one, spl ashed acr oss t he page i n gr een i nk, l ooked li ke t wo concentri c circl es, wit h a squar e i n t he
cent er of t he m. I n t he space bet ween t he circl es, r unes wer e scr a wl ed. Cl ary di dn’t r ecogni ze t he m, but she coul d
f eel t he l anguage of t he r unes i n her bones, and it made her shi ver. Deat h and bl ood.
She t ur ned t he page hastil y, and ca me on a gr oup of ill ustr ati ons t hat made her suck i n her br eat h.
It was a pr ogr essi on of pi ct ur es t hat st art ed wit h t he i mage of a wo man wit h a bir d perched on her l eft shoul der.
The bird, possibly a raven, looked sinister and cunning. In the second picture the bird was gone, and the woman
was obvi ousl y pr egnant. I n t he t hir d i mage t he wo man was l yi ng on an alt ar not unli ke t he one Cl ary was st andi ng
i n fr ont of no w. A r obed fi gur e was st andi ng i n fr ont of her, a j arri ngl y moder n-l ooki ng syri nge i n it s hand. The
syri nge was f ull of dark r ed li qui d. The wo man cl earl y kne w she was about t o be i nj ect ed wit h it, because she was
scr ea mi ng.
I n t he l ast pi ct ur e t he wo man was sitti ng wit h a baby on her l ap. The baby l ooked al most nor mal, except t hat it s
eyes wer e entir el y bl ack, wit hout whit es at all. The wo man was l ooki ng do wn at her chil d wit h a l ook of t err or.
Cl ary f elt t he hairs on t he back of her neck pri ckl e. Her mot her had been ri ght. So meone was tryi ng t o make mor e
babi es li ke Jonat han. I n f act, t hey alr eady had.
She st epped back fr o m t he alt ar. Every nerve i n her body was scr ea mi ng t hat t her e was so met hi ng very wr ong
wit h t hi s pl ace. She di dn’t t hi nk she coul d spend anot her second her e; bett er t o go out si de and wait t her e f or t he
cavalry t o arri ve. She mi ght have di scover ed t hi s cl ue on her o wn, but t he r esult was way mor e t han she coul d
handle on her own.
It was t hen t hat she hear d t he sound.
A soft susurr ati on, li ke a sl o w ti de pulli ng back, t hat see med t o co me fr o m above her. She l ooked up, t he at ha me
gri pped fir ml y i n her hand. And st ar ed. All ar ound t he upst airs gall ery st ood r o ws of sil ent fi gur es. They wor e what
looked like gray tracksuits—sneakers, dull gray sweats, and zip-up tops with hoods pulled down over their faces.
They wer e utt erl y moti onl ess, t heir hands on t he gall ery r aili ng, st ari ng do wn at her. At l east, she assu med t hey
wer e st ari ng. Their f aces wer e hi dden entir el y i n shado w; she coul dn’t even t ell if t hey wer e mal e or f e mal e.
“I . . . I’ m sorry,” she sai d. Her voi ce echoed l oudl y i n t he st one r oo m. “I di dn’t mean t o i ntr ude, or . . .”
Ther e was no ans wer but sil ence. Sil ence li ke a wei ght. Cl ary’ s heart began t o beat f ast er.
“I’ll j ust go, t hen,” she sai d, s wall o wi ng har d. She st epped f or war d, l ai d t he at ha me on t he alt ar, and t ur ned t o
l eave. She caught t he scent on t he air t hen, a split second bef or e she t ur ned —t he f a mili ar st ench of r otti ng
gar bage. Bet ween her and t he door, ri si ng up li ke a wall, was a ni ght mari sh mi sh mash of scal ed ski n, bl adeli ke
t eet h, and r eachi ng cl a ws.
For t he past seven weeks Cl ary had tr ai ned t o f ace do wn a de mon i n battl e, even a massi ve one. But no w t hat it
was actually happening, all she could do was scream.
11O
UR KI ND
The demon lunged for Clary, and she stopped screaming abr uptl y and fl ung herself back war d, over t he alt ar
—a perf ect fli p, and f or one bi zarr e mo ment she wi shed Jace had been t her e t o see it. She hit t he gr ound i n a
cr ouch, j ust as so met hi ng str uck t he alt ar har d, maki ng t he st one vi br at e.
A ho wl sounded t hr ough t he church. Cl ary scr a mbl ed t o her knees and peer ed over t he edge of t he alt ar. The
de mon wasn’t as bi g as she’ d first t hought, but it wasn’t s mall, eit her —about t he si ze of a r efri ger at or, wit h t hr ee
heads on swaying stalks. The heads were blind, with enormous gaping jaws from which ropes of greenish drool
hung. The de mon see med t o have s macked it s l eft most head on t he alt ar when it gr abbed f or her, because it was
shaki ng t he head back and f ort h as if tryi ng t o cl ear it.
Cl ary gl anced up wil dl y, but t he tr acksuit ed fi gur es wer e still wher e t hey had been bef or e. None of t he m had
moved. They seemed to be watching what was going on with a detached interest. She spun and looked behind
her, but t her e appear ed t o be no exit s fr o m t he church besi des t he door she’ d co me t hr ough, and t he de mon was
curr entl y bl ocki ng her pat h back t o it. Reali zi ng she was wasti ng pr eci ous seconds, she scr a mbl ed t o her f eet and
gr abbed f or t he at ha me. She yanked it off t he alt ar and ducked back do wn j ust as t he de mon ca me f or her agai n.
She r oll ed t o t he si de as a head, s wayi ng on a t hi ck st al k of neck, dart ed over t he alt ar, it s t hi ck bl ack t ongue
fli cki ng out, searchi ng f or her. Wit h a scr ea m she j a mmed t he at ha me i nt o t he cr eat ur e’ s neck once, t hen j erked it
free, scrambling backward and out of the way.
The t hi ng scr ea med, it s head r eari ng back, bl ack bl ood spr ayi ng fr o m t he wound she’ d made. But it wasn’t a
killi ng bl o w. Even as Cl ary wat ched, t he wound began t o heal sl o wl y, t he de mon’ s bl acki sh gr een fl esh knitti ng
t oget her li ke f abri c bei ng se wed up. Her heart sank. Of course. The whol e r eason Shado whunt ers used r uned
weapons was that the runes prevented demons from healing.
She r eached f or t he st el e i n her belt wit h her l eft hand, and yanked it fr ee j ust as t he de mon ca me f or her agai n.
She l eaped t o t he si de and t hr e w herself pai nf ull y do wn t he st airs, r olli ng until she f et ched up agai nst t he first r o w
of pe ws. The de mon t ur ned, l u mberi ng a bit as it moved, and made f or her agai n. Reali zi ng she was still cl ut chi ng
bot h t he st el e and t he dagger —i n f act, t he dagger had cut her as she had r oll ed, and bl ood was qui ckl y st ai ni ng
t he fr ont of her j acket —she tr ansf err ed t he dagger t o her l eft hand, t he st el e t o her ri ght, and wit h a desper at e
s wift ness, cut an enkeli r une i nt o t he at ha me’ s hilt.
The ot her sy mbol s on t he hilt began t o melt and r un as t he r une of angeli c po wer t ook hol d. Cl ary l ooked up; t he
de mon was al most on her, it s t hr ee heads r eachi ng, t heir mout hs gapi ng. Pr opelli ng herself t o her f eet, she dr e w
her ar m back and fl ung t he dagger as har d as she coul d. To her gr eat sur pri se, it str uck t he mi ddl e head ri ght i n
t he cent er of t he skull, si nki ng i n up t o t he hilt. The head t hr ashed as t he de mon scr ea med —Cl ary’ s heart lift ed —
and t hen t he head si mpl y dr opped, hitti ng t he gr ound wit h a si ckeni ng t hud. The de mon kept co mi ng any way,
dr aggi ng t he no w- dead head on it s li mp neck aft er it as it moved t o war d Cl ary.
The sound of many footsteps came from above. Clary looked up. The tracksuited figures were gone, the gallery
e mpt y. The si ght was not r eassuri ng. Her heart doi ng a wil d t ango i n her chest, Cl ary t ur ned and r an f or t he fr ont
door, but t he de mon was f ast er t han she was. Wit h a gr unt of eff ort it l aunched it self over her and l anded i n fr ont of
t he doors, bl ocki ng her way out. Maki ng a hi ssi ng noi se, it moved t o war d her, it s t wo li vi ng heads s wayi ng, t hen
ri si ng, str et chi ng t o t heir f ull l engt h i n or der t o stri ke at her —
So met hi ng fl ashed t hr ough t he air, a darti ng fl a me of sil very gol d. The de mon’ s heads whi pped ar ound, t he
hi ssi ng ri si ng t o a scr ea m, but it was t oo l at e —t he sil very t hi ng t hat encircl ed t he m pull ed ti ght, and wit h a spr ay of
blackish blood, its remaining two heads sheared away. Clary rolled out of the way as flying blood splattered her,
searing her skin. Then she ducked her head as the headless body swayed, fell toward her—
And was gone. As it was coll apsi ng, t he de mon vani shed, sucked back t o it s ho me di mensi on. Cl ary r ai sed her
head cauti ousl y. The fr ont doors of t he church wer e open, and i n t he entr ance way st ood Isabell e, i n boot s and a
bl ack dr ess, her el ectr u m whi p i n hand. She was wi ndi ng it back sl o wl y ar ound her wri st, gl anci ng ar ound t he
church as she di d so, her dark eyebr o ws dr a wn t oget her i n a curi ous fr o wn. As her gaze f ell on Cl ary, she gri nned.
“ Da mn, girl,” she sai d. “ What have you gott en yourself i nt o no w?”
The t ouch of t he va mpir e servant s’ hands on Si mon’ s ski n was col d and li ght, li ke t he t ouch of i cy wi ngs. He
shudder ed a littl e as t hey unwound t he bli ndf ol d fr o m ar ound hi s head, t heir wit her ed ski n r ough on hi s, bef or e t hey
stepped back, bowing as they retreated.
He l ooked ar ound, bli nki ng. Mo ment s ago, he had been st andi ng i n t he sunli ght on t he cor ner of Sevent y- Ei ght h
Str eet and Second Avenue —enough of a di st ance fr o m t he I nstit ut e t hat he had j udged it saf e t o use t he gr ave- dirt
t o cont act Ca mill e wit hout ar ousi ng her suspi ci ons. No w he was i n a di ml y lit r oo m, quit e l ar ge, wit h a s moot h
mar bl e fl oor and el egant mar bl e pill ars hol di ng up a hi gh ceili ng. Al ong t he l eft wall r an a r o w of gl ass-fr ont ed
cubicles, each with a brass-lettered plaque hanging over it that read TELLER. Another brass plaque on the wall
pr ocl ai med t hi s t o be t he DOUGL AS NATI ONAL BANK. Thi ck l ayers of dust padded t he fl oor and t he count ers
wher e peopl e had once st ood t o writ e out checks or wit hdr a wal sli ps, and t he br ass- bound l a mps t hat hung fr o m
t he ceili ng wer e coat ed wit h ver di gri s.
I n t he cent er of t he r oo m was a hi gh ar mchair, and i n t he chair sat Ca mill e. Her sil very- bl ond hair was undone, and
r ai ned do wn over her shoul ders li ke ti nsel. Her beautif ul f ace had been wi ped cl ean of makeup, but her li ps wer e
still very r ed. I n t he di mness of t he bank, t hey wer e al most t he onl y col or Si mon coul d see.
“I woul d not nor mall y agr ee t o meet duri ng sunli ght hours, Dayli ght er,” she sai d. “ But si nce it i s you, I have made an
exception.”
“ Thank you.” He noti ced no chair had been pr ovi ded f or hi m, so he conti nued a wk war dl y st andi ng. If hi s heart still
beat, he t hought, it woul d have been poundi ng. When he had agr eed t o do t hi s f or t he Concl ave, he had f or gott en
ho w much Ca mill e scar ed hi m. Maybe it was ill ogi cal —what coul d she r eall y do t o hi m? —but t her e it was.
“I suppose t hi s means t hat you have consi der ed my off er,” sai d Ca mill e. “ And t hat you agr ee t o it.”
“ What makes you t hi nk I agr ee?” Si mon sai d, very much hopi ng t hat she woul dn’t put do wn t he f at uousness of t he
questi on t o t he f act t hat he was st alli ng f or ti me.
She looked mildly impatient. “You would hardly deliver in person the news that you had decided to refuse me. You
woul d be afr ai d of my t e mper.”
“Should I be afraid of your temper?”
Ca mill e sat back i n t he wi ng- back chair, s mili ng. The chair was moder n-l ooki ng and l uxuri ous, unli ke anyt hi ng el se
in the abandoned bank. It must have been hauled here from somewhere else, probably by Camille’s servants, who
wer e curr entl y st andi ng off t o each si de li ke sil ent st at ues. “ Many ar e,” she sai d. “ But you have no r eason t o be. I
a m very pl eased wit h you. Though you wait ed until t he l ast mo ment t o cont act me, I sense you have made t he ri ght
decision.”
Si mon’ s phone chose t hat mi nut e t o begi n buzzi ng i nsi st entl y. He j u mped, f eeli ng a tri ckl e of col d s weat goi ng
do wn hi s back, t hen fi shed it hastil y out of t he pocket of hi s j acket. “ Sorry,” he sai d, fli ppi ng it open. “ Phone.”
Camille looked horrified. “Do not ans wer t hat.”
Si mon began lifti ng t he phone t o hi s ear. As he di d, he managed t o hit t he ca mer a butt on sever al ti mes wit h hi s
fi nger. “It’ll j ust t ake a second.”
“ Si mon.”
He hit t he send butt on and t hen qui ckl y fli pped t he phone cl osed. “ Sorry. I di dn’t t hi nk.”
Ca mill e’ s chest was ri si ng and f alli ng wit h r age, despit e t he f act t hat she di dn’t act uall y br eat he. “I de mand mor e
r espect t han t hat fr o m my servant s,” she hi ssed. “ You will never do t hat agai n, or —”
“ Or what ?” Si mon sai d. “ You can’t hurt me, any mor e t han anyone el se can. And you t ol d me I woul dn’t be a
servant. You t ol d me I’ d be your part ner.” He paused, l etti ng j ust t he ri ght not e of arr ogance i nt o hi s voi ce. “ Maybe I
ought t o r econsi der my accept ance of your off er.”
Ca mill e’ s eyes darkened. “ Oh, f or God’ s sake. Don’t be a littl e f ool.”
“How can you say that word?” Simon demanded.
Camille raised delicate eyebrows. “Which word? Are you annoyed that I called you a fool?”
“ No. Well, yes, but t hat’ s not what I meant. You sai d ‘ Oh, f or —’” He br oke off, hi s voi ce cr acki ng. He still coul dn’t
say it. God.
“ Because I do not beli eve i n hi m, sill y boy,” sai d Ca mill e. “ And you still do.” She tilt ed her head t o t he si de,
r egar di ng hi m t he way a bir d mi ght r egar d a wor m on t he si de wal k t hat it was consi deri ng eati ng. “I t hi nk per haps
it i s ti me f or a bl ood oat h.”
“ A . . . bl ood oat h?” Si mon wonder ed if he’ d hear d ri ght.
“I f or get t hat your kno wl edge of t he cust o ms of our ki nd i s so li mit ed.” Ca mill e shook her sil very head. “I will have
you si gn an oat h, i n bl ood, t hat you ar e l oyal t o me. It will pr event you fr o m di sobeyi ng me i n t he f ut ur e. Consi der it
a sort of . . . pr enupti al agr ee ment.” She s mil ed, and he sa w t he gli nt of her f angs. “ Co me.” She snapped her
fi ngers i mperi ousl y, and her mi ni ons scurri ed t o war d her, t heir gr ay heads bent. The first t o r each her handed her
so met hi ng t hat l ooked li ke an ol d-f ashi oned gl ass pen, t he ki nd wit h a whorl ed ti p meant t o cat ch and hol d i nk.
“ You will have t o cut yourself and dr a w your o wn bl ood,” sai d Ca mill e. “ Nor mall y I woul d do it myself, but t he Mark
prevents me. Therefore we must improvise.”
Si mon hesit at ed. Thi s was bad. Very bad. He kne w enough about t he super nat ur al worl d t o kno w what oat hs
meant t o Do wnworl ders. They wer e not j ust e mpt y pr o mi ses t hat coul d be br oken. They tr ul y bound t he pr o mi ser,
li ke virt ual manacl es. If he si gned t he oat h, he r eall y woul d be l oyal t o Ca mill e. Possi bl y f or ever.
“ Co me al ong,” Ca mill e sai d, a t ouch of i mpati ence cr eepi ng i nt o her voi ce. “ Ther e i s no need t o da wdl e.”
Swall o wi ng, Si mon t ook a r el uct ant st ep f or war d, and t hen anot her. A servant st epped i n fr ont of hi m, bl ocki ng hi s
way. He was hol di ng out a knif e t o Si mon, a wi cked-l ooki ng t hi ng wit h a needl e bl ade. Si mon t ook it, and r ai sed it
above hi s wri st. Then he l o wer ed it. “ You kno w,” he sai d, “I r eall y don’t li ke pai n very much. Or kni ves —”
“ Do it,” Camille growled.
“ Ther e has t o be so me ot her way.”
Ca mill e r ose fr o m her chair, and Si mon sa w t hat her f angs wer e f ull y ext ended. She was tr ul y enr aged. “If you do
not st op wasti ng my ti me —”
Ther e was a soft i mpl osi on, a sound li ke so met hi ng enor mous t eari ng do wn t he mi ddl e. A gr eat shi mmeri ng panel
appear ed agai nst t he opposit e wall. Ca mill e t ur ned t o war d it, her li ps parti ng i n shock as she sa w what it was.
Si mon kne w she r ecogni zed it, j ust as he di d. Ther e was onl y one t hi ng it coul d be.
A Port al. And t hr ough it wer e pouri ng at l east a dozen Shado whunt ers.
“ Okay,” sai d Isabell e, putti ng a way t he first ai d kit wit h a bri sk gest ur e. They wer e i n one of t he I nstit ut e’ s many
spar e r oo ms, meant t o house vi siti ng Cl ave me mbers. Each was pl ai nl y f ur ni shed wit h a bed, a dr esser and a
war dr obe, and a s mall bat hr oo m. And, of course, each one had a first ai d kit, wit h bandages, poulti ces, and even
spare steles included. “You’re pretty we illr at ze’ d up, but it’ s goi ng t o t ake a littl e whil e f or so me of t hose br ui ses t o
fade. And these”—she ran her hand over the burn marks on Clary’s forearm where the demon blood had splashed
her —“ pr obabl y won’t go a way t ot all y till t o morr o w. If you r est, t hey’ll heal f ast er, t hough.”
“ That’ s fi ne. Thanks, Isabell e.” Cl ary l ooked do wn at her hands; t her e wer e bandages ar ound t he ri ght one, and
her shirt was still t or n and bl oodst ai ned, t hough Izzy’ s r unes had heal ed t he cut s beneat h. She supposed she coul d
have done t he ir at zes herself, but it was ni ce t o have so meone t ake car e of her, and Izzy, whil e not t he war mest
person Cl ary kne w, coul d be capabl e and ki nd when she f elt li ke it. “ And t hanks f or sho wi ng up and, you kno w,
savi ng my lif e fr o m what ever t hat was —”
“ A Hydr a de mon. I t ol d you. They have a l ot of heads, but t hey’r e pr ett y du mb. And you wer en’t doi ng such a bad
j ob wit h it bef or e I sho wed up. I li ke what you di d wit h t he at ha me. Good t hi nki ng under pr essur e. That’ s as much a
part of being a Shadowhunter as learning how to punch holes in things.” Isabelle flopped down onto the bed next
to Clary and sighed. “I should probably go look up what I can fi nd out about t he Church of Talt o bef or e t he
Concl ave get s back. Maybe it’ll hel p us fi gur e out what’ s goi ng on. The hospit al st uff, t he babi es —” She
shudder ed. “I don’t li ke it.”
Clary had told Isabelle as much as she could about why she’d been at the church, even about the demon baby at
t he hospit al, t hough she’ d pr et ended she was t he one who’ d been suspi ci ous, and had kept her mot her out of t he
story. Isabelle had looked sick when Clary had described the way the baby had looked exactly like a normal baby
except f or it s open bl ack eyes and t he littl e cl a ws it had i nst ead of hands. “I t hi nk t hey wer e tryi ng t o make anot her
baby li ke —li ke my br ot her. I t hi nk t hey experi ment ed on so me poor mundane wo man,” Cl ary sai d. “ But she
coul dn’t t ake it when t he baby was bor n, and she l ost her mi nd. It’ s j ust —who woul d do so met hi ng li ke t hat ? One of
Val enti ne’ s f oll o wers? The ones who never got caught, maybe tryi ng t o carry on what he was doi ng?”
“ Maybe. Or j ust so me de mon- worshi ppi ng cult. Ther e ar e pl ent y of t he m. Alt hough I can’t i magi ne why anyone
woul d want t o make mor e cr eat ur es li ke Sebasti an.” Her voi ce gave a littl e j u mp of hatr ed when she sai d hi s
name.
“His name’s really Jonathan—”
“Jonat han i s Jace’ s na me,” sai d Isabell e ti ghtl y. “I won’t call t hat monst er by t he sa me na me my br ot her has. He’ s
always going to be Sebastian to me.”
Cl ary had t o ad mit Isabell e had a poi nt. She had a har d ti me t hi nki ng of hi m as Jonat han t oo. She supposed it
wasn’t f air t o t he tr ue Sebasti an, but none of t he m had r eall y kno wn hi m. It was easi er t o sl ap a str anger’ s na me
ont o Val enti ne’ s vi ci ous son t han call hi m so met hi ng t hat made hi m f eel cl oser t o her f a mil y, cl oser t o her lif e.
Isabell e spoke li ghtl y, but Cl ary coul d t ell t hat her mi nd was worki ng, ti cki ng over vari ous possi biliti es: “ Any way, I’ m
gl ad you t ext ed me when you di d. I coul d t ell fr o m your message t hat so met hi ng weir d was goi ng on, and fr ankl y I
was bor ed. Everyone’ s off doi ng so me secr et t hi ng wit h t he Concl ave, and I di dn’t want t o go, because Si mon
was goi ng t o be t her e, and I hat e hi m no w.”
“ Si mon i s wit h t he Concl ave?” Cl ary was ast oni shed. She had noti ced t hat t he I nstit ut e had see med even mor e
e mpt y t han usual when t hey’ d arri ved. Jace, of course, wasn’t t her e, but she hadn’t expect ed hi m t o be —t hough
she hadn’t kno wn why. “I t al ked t o hi m t hi s mor ni ng and he di dn’t say anyt hi ng about doi ng so met hi ng f or t he m,”
Clary added.
Isabell e shr ugged. “It has so met hi ng t o do wit h va mpir e politi cs. That’ s all I kno w.”
“ Do you t hi nk he’ s all ri ght ?”
Isabell e sounded exasper at ed. “ He doesn’t need you t o pr ot ect hi m any mor e, Cl ary. He has t he Mark of Cai n. He
coul d get bl o wn up, shot at, dr o wned, and st abbed and he’ d be j ust fi ne.” She l ooked at Cl ary har d. “I noti ce you
di dn’t ask me why I hat e Si mon,” she sai d. “I assu me you kne w about t he t wo-ti mi ng t hi ng?”
“I kne w,” Cl ary ad mitt ed. “I’ m sorry.”
Isabell e waved her conf essi on a way. “ You’r e hi s best fri end. It woul d have been weir d if you di dn’t kno w.”
“I shoul d have t ol d you,” Cl ary sai d. “It’ s j ust —I never got t he sense you wer e t hat seri ous about Si mon, you kno w?”
Isabell e sco wl ed. “I wasn’t. It’ s j ust —I t hought he woul d t ake it seri ousl y, at l east. Si nce I was so out of hi s l eague
and everyt hi ng. I guess I expect ed bett er fr o m hi m t han I do fr o m ot her guys.”
“ Maybe,” Cl ary sai d qui etl y, “ Si mon shoul dn’t be dati ng so meone who t hi nks t hey’r e out of hi s l eague.” Isabell e
looked at her, and Cl ary f elt herself fl ush. “ Sorry. Your r el ati onshi p i s r eall y none of my busi ness.”
Isabell e was t wi sti ng her dark hair up i nt o a knot, so met hi ng she di d when she f elt t ense. “ No, it i sn’t. I mean, I
coul d ask you why you t ext ed me t o co me t o t he church and meet you, and not Jace, but I haven’t. I’ m not st upi d. I
know something’s wrong between you two, passionate alley make-out sessions notwithstanding.” She looked
keenl y at Cl ary. “ Have t he t wo of you sl ept t oget her yet ?”
Cl ary f elt t he bl ood r ush i nt o her f ace. “ What —I mean, no, we haven’t, but I don’t see what t hat has t o do wit h
anything.”
“It doesn’t,” sai d Isabell e, patti ng her knott ed hair i nt o pl ace. “ That was j ust pr uri ent curi osit y. What’ s hol di ng you
back?”
“Isabelle—” Clary pulled up her legs, wrapped her arms around her knees, and sighed. “Nothing. We were just
t aki ng our ti me. I’ ve never —you kno w.”
“Jace has,” sai d Isabell e. “I mean, I assu me he has. I don’t kno w f or sur e. But if you ever need anyt hi ng . . .” She l et
t he sent ence hang i n t he air.
“Need anything?”
“ Pr ot ecti on. You kno w. So you can be car ef ul,” Isabell e sai d. She sounded as pr acti cal as if she wer e t al ki ng
about extr a butt ons. “ You’ d t hi nk t he Angel woul d have been f or esi ght ed enough t o gi ve us a birt h-contr ol r une, but
no di ce.”
“ Of course I’ d be car ef ul,” Cl ary spl utt er ed, f eeli ng her cheeks t ur n r ed. “ Enough. Thi s i s a wk war d.”
“ Thi s i s girl t al k,” sai d Isabell e. “ You j ust t hi nk it’ s a wk war d because you’ ve spent your whol e lif e wit h Si mon as
your onl y fri end. And you can’t t al k t o hi m about Jace. That woul d be awkward.”
“ And Jace r eall y hasn’t sai d anyt hi ng t o you? About what’ s bot heri ng hi m?” Cl ary sai d, i n a s mall voi ce. “ You
promise?”
“He didn’t have to,” Isabelle said. “The way you’ve been acting, and with Jace going around looking like someone
j ust di ed, it’ s not li ke I woul dn’t noti ce so met hi ng was wr ong. You shoul d have co me t o t al k t o me sooner.”
“Is he at l east all ri ght ?” Cl ary asked very qui etl y.
Isabell e st ood up fr o m t he bed and l ooked do wn at her. “ No,” she sai d. “ He i s very much not all ri ght. Ar e you?”
Clary shook her head.
“I di dn’t t hi nk so,” Isabell e sai d.
To Si mon’ s sur pri se, Ca mill e, upon seei ng t he Shado whunt ers, di dn’t even try t o st and her gr ound. She scr ea med
and r an f or t he door, onl y t o fr eeze when she r eali zed t hat it was dayli ght out si de, and t hat exiti ng t he bank woul d
quickly incinerate her. She gasped and cowered back against a wall, her fangs bared, a low hiss coming from her
t hr oat.
Simon stepped back as the Shadowhunters of the Conclave swarmed around him, all in black like a murder of
cr o ws; he sa w Jace, hi s f ace pal e and set li ke whit e mar bl e, sli de a br oads wor d bl ade t hr ough one of t he hu man
servant s as he passed hi m, as casuall y as a pedestri an mi ght s wat a fl y. Maryse st al ked ahead, her fl yi ng bl ack
hair r e mi ndi ng Si mon of Isabell e. She di spat ched t he second co weri ng mi ni on wit h a whi psa w move ment of her
seraph blade, and advanced on Camille, her shining blade outstretched. Jace was beside her, and another
Shado whunt er —a t all man wit h bl ack r unes t wi ni ng hi s f or ear ms li ke vi nes —was on her ot her si de.
The r est of t he Shado whunt ers had spr ead out and wer e canvassi ng t he bank, s weepi ng it wit h t hose odd t hi ngs
t hey used —Sensors —checki ng every cor ner f or de mon acti vit y. They i gnor ed t he bodi es of Ca mill e’ s hu man
servant s, l yi ng moti onl ess i n t heir pool s of dryi ng bl ood. They i gnor ed Si mon as well. He mi ght as well have been
anot her pill ar, f or all t he att enti on t hey pai d hi m.
“ Ca mill e Bel court,” sai d Maryse, her voi ce echoi ng off t he mar bl e wall s. “ You have br oken t he La w and ar e subj ect
t o t he La w’ s puni sh ment s. Will you surr ender and co me wit h us, or will you fi ght ?”
Ca mill e was cryi ng, maki ng no att e mpt t o cover her t ears, whi ch wer e ti nged wit h bl ood. They str eaked her whit e
face with red lines as she choked, “Walker—and my Archer—”
Maryse l ooked baffl ed. She t ur ned t o t he man on her l eft. “ What i s she sayi ng, Kadir ?”
“ Her hu man servant s,” he r epli ed. “I beli eve she i s mour ni ng t heir deat hs.”
Maryse fli pped her hand di s mi ssi vel y. “It i s agai nst t he La w t o make servant s of hu man bei ngs.”
“I made t he m bef or e Do wnworl ders wer e subj ect t o your accursed l a ws, you bit ch. They have been wit h me t wo
hundred years. They were like children to me.”
Maryse’ s hand ti ght ened on t he hilt of her bl ade. “ What woul d you kno w of chil dr en?” she whi sper ed. “ What does
your ki nd kno w of anyt hi ng but destr oyi ng?”
Ca mill e’ s t ear-str eaked f ace fl ashed f or a mo ment wit h tri u mph. “I kne w it,” she sai d. “ What ever el se you mi ght
say, what ever li es you t ell, you hat e our ki nd. Don’t you?”
Maryse’ s f ace ti ght ened. “ Take her,” she sai d. “ Bri ng her t o t he Sanct uary.”
Jace moved s wiftl y t o one si de of Ca mill e and t ook hol d of her; Kadir sei zed her ot her ar m. Toget her, t hey
pinioned her between them.
“ Ca mill e Bel court, you st and accused of t he mur der of h u mans,” Maryse i nt oned. “ And of t he mur der of
Shado whunt ers. You will be t aken t o t he Sanct uary, wher e you will be questi oned. The sent ence f or t he mur der of
Shado whunt ers i s deat h, but it i s possi bl e t hat if you cooper at e wit h us, your lif e will be spar ed. Do you
understand?” asked Maryse.
Ca mill e t ossed her head defi antl y. “ Ther e i s onl y one man I will ans wer t o,” she sai d. “If you do not bri ng hi m t o me,
I will t ell you not hi ng. You can kill me, but I will t ell you not hi ng.”
“ Very well,” sai d Maryse. “ What man i s t hat ?”
Ca mill e bar ed her t eet h. “ Magnus Bane.”
“Magnus Bane?” Maryse looked flabbergasted. “The High Warlock of Brooklyn? Why do you want to talk to him?”
“I will ans wer t o hi m,” Ca mill e sai d agai n. “ Or I will ans wer t o no one.”
And t hat was t hat. She sai d not anot her wor d. As she was dr agged a way by Shado whunt ers, Si mon wat ched her
go. He di d not f eel, as he had t hought he woul d, tri u mphant. He f elt holl o w, and str angel y si ck t o hi s st o mach. He
l ooked do wn at t he bodi es of t he sl ai n servant s; he hadn’t li ked t he m much eit her, but t hey hadn’t asked t o be
what t hey wer e, not r eall y. I n a way, maybe neit her had Ca mill e. But she was a monst er t o Nephili m any way. And
maybe not j ust because she had kill ed Shado whunt ers; maybe t her e was no way, r eall y, f or t he m t o t hi nk of her as
anything else.
Ca mill e had been pushed t hr ough t he Port al; Jace st ood on t he ot her si de of it, gest uri ng i mpati entl y f or Si mon t o
f oll o w. “ Ar e you co mi ng or not ?” he call ed.
What ever el se you mi ght say, what ever li es you t ell, you hat e our ki nd.
“ Co mi ng,” Si mon sai d, and moved r el uct antl y f or war d.
12
SANCTUARY
“ What do you t hi nk Ca mill e want s t o see Magnus f or ?” Simon asked.
He and Jace wer e st andi ng agai nst t he back wall of t he Sanct uary, whi ch was a massi ve r oo m att ached t o t he
mai n body of t he I nstit ut e t hr ough a narr o w passage way. It wasn’t part of t he I nstit ut e per se; it had been l eft
deliberately unconsecrated in order that it might be used as a holding place for demons and vampires.
Sanctuaries, Jace had informed Simon, had gone out of fashion somewhat since Projecting had been invented,
but every once i n a whil e t hey f ound a use f or t heirs. Appar entl y, t hi s was one of t hose ti mes.
It was a big room, stone-bound and pillared, with an equally stone-bound entryway beyond a wide set of double
doors; t he entry way l ed t o t he corri dor connecti ng t he r oo m t o t he I nstit ut e. Huge gouges i n t he st one fl oor
indicated that whatever had been caged here over the years had been pretty nasty—and big. Simon couldn’t help
wonderi ng ho w many enor mous r oo ms f ull of pill ars he was goi ng t o have t o spend ti me i n. Ca mill e was st andi ng
against one of the pillars, her arms behind her, guarded on either side by Shadowhunter warriors. Maryse was
paci ng back and f ort h, occasi onall y conf erri ng wit h Kadir, cl earl y tryi ng t o sort out so me ki nd of pl an. Ther e wer e
no wi ndo ws i n t he r oo m, f or obvi ous r easons, but wit chli ght t orches bur ned every wher e, gi vi ng t he whol e scene a
peculi ar whiti sh cast.
“I don’t kno w,” Jace sai d. “ Maybe she want s f ashi on ti ps.”
“ Ha,” Si mon sai d. “ Who’ s t hat guy, wit h your mot her ? He l ooks f a mili ar.”
“ That’ s Kadir,” sai d Jace. “ You pr obabl y met hi s br ot her. Mali k. He di ed i n t he att ack on Val enti ne’ s shi p. Kadir’ s
t he second most i mport ant person i n t he Concl ave, aft er my mo m. She r eli es on hi m a l ot.”
As Si mon wat ched, Kadir pull ed Ca mill e’ s ar ms behi nd her back, so t hey circl ed t he pill ar, and chai ned t he m at
her wri st s. The va mpir e gave a littl e scr ea m.
“ Bl essed met al,” sai d Jace wit hout a fli cker of e moti on. “It bur ns t he m.”
The m, Si mon t hought. You mean “you.” I’ m j ust li ke her. I’ m not diff er ent j ust because you kno w me .
Ca mill e was whi mperi ng. Kadir st ood back, hi s f ace i mpassi ve. Runes, dark agai nst hi s dark ski n, t wi ned t he
entir et y of hi s ar ms and t hr oat. He t ur ned t o say so met hi ng t o Maryse; Si mon caught t he wor ds “ Magnus” and “fir emessage.”
“ Magnus agai n,” sai d Si mon. “ But i sn’t he tr aveli ng?”
“ Magnus and Ca mill e ar e bot h r eall y ol d,” sai d Jace. “I suppose it’ s not t hat odd t hat t hey kno w each ot her.” He
shr ugged, see mi ngl y uni nt er est ed i n t he t opi c. “ Any way, I’ m pr ett y sur e t hey’r e goi ng t o wi nd up su mmoni ng
Magnus back her e. Maryse want s i nf or mati on, and she want s it bad. She kno ws Ca mill e wasn’t killi ng t hose
Shado whunt ers j ust f or bl ood. Ther e ar e easi er ways t o get bl ood.”
Si mon t hought fl eeti ngl y of Maur een, and f elt si ck. “ Well,” he sai d, tryi ng t o sound unconcer ned. “I guess t hat
means Al ec will be back. So t hat’ s good, ri ght ?”
“ Sur e.” Jace’ s voi ce sounded lif el ess. He di dn’t l ook all t hat gr eat eit her; t he whiti sh li ght i n t he r oo m cast t he
angl es of hi s cheekbones i nt o a ne w and shar per r eli ef, sho wi ng t hat he’ d l ost wei ght. Hi s fi nger nail s wer e bitt en
down to bloody stumps, and there were dark shadows under his eyes.
“ At l east your pl an worked,” Si mon added, tryi ng t o i nj ect so me cheer i nt o Jace’ s mi sery. It had been Jace’ s i dea
t o have Si mon t ake a pi ct ur e wit h hi s cell phone and send it t o t he Concl ave, whi ch woul d all o w t he m t o Port al t o
wher e he was. “It was a good i dea.”
“I kne w it woul d work.” Jace sounded bor ed by t he co mpli ment. He l ooked up as t he doubl e doors t o t he I nstit ut e
swung open, and Isabelle came through them, her black hair swinging. She looked around the room—giving
Camille and the other Shadowhunters barely a glance—and came toward Jace and Simon, her boots clattering
agai nst t he st one fl oor.
“What’s all this about yanking poor Magnus and Alec back from their vacation?” Isabelle demanded. “They have
oper a ti cket s!”
Jace explained, while Isabelle stood with her hands on her hips, ignoring Simon completely.
“ Fi ne,” she sai d when he was done. “ But t he whol e t hi ng’ s ri di cul ous. She’ s j ust st alli ng f or ti me. What coul d she
possi bl y have t o say t o Magnus?” She gl anced back over her shoul der at Ca mill e, who was no w not j ust manacl ed
but bound t o t he pill ar wit h l engt hs of sil very- gol d chai n. It cri sscr ossed her body acr oss her t orso, her knees, and
even her ankl es, hol di ng her t ot all y i mmobil e. “Is t hat bl essed met al ?”
Jace nodded. “ The manacl es ar e li ned t o pr ot ect her wri st s, but if she moves t oo much . . .” He made a si zzli ng
sound. Si mon, r e me mberi ng t he way hi s hands had bur ned when he’ d t ouched t he St ar of Davi d i n hi s cell i n I dri s,
t he way hi s ski n had r un wit h bl ood, had t o fi ght t he ur ge t o snap at hi m.
“ Well, whil e you wer e off tr appi ng va mpir es, I was upt o wn fi ghti ng off a Hydr a de mon,” Isabell e sai d. “ Wit h Cl ary.”
Jace, who had evi nced onl y t he bar est i nt er est i n anyt hi ng goi ng on ar ound hi m until no w, j erked upri ght. “ Wit h
Cl ary ? You took her demon-hunting with you? Isabelle—”
“ Of course not. She was alr eady well i nt o t he fi ght by t he ti me I got t her e.”
“ But ho w di d you kno w —?”
“ She t ext ed me,” Isabell e sai d. “ So I went.” She exa mi ned her nail s, whi ch wer e, as usual, perf ect.
“ She t ext eydou ?” Jace gr abbed Isabell e by t he wri st. “Is she all ri ght ? Di d she get hurt ?”
Isabell e l ooked do wn at hi s hand gri ppi ng her wri st, and t hen back up at hi s f ace. If he was hurti ng her, Si mon
coul dn’t t ell, but t he l ook on her f ace coul d have cut gl ass, as coul d t he sarcas m i n her voi ce. “ Yes, she’ s bl eedi ng
t o deat h upst airs, but I t hought I’ d avoi d t elli ng you ri ght a way, because I li ke t o dr a w t he suspense out.”
Jace, as if suddenl y consci ous of what he was doi ng, l et go of Isabell e’ s wri st. “ She’ s her e?”
“ She’ s upst airs,” Isabell e sai d. “ Resti ng —”
But Jace was alr eady gone, r unni ng f or t he entry way doors. He burst t hr ough t he m and vani shed. Isabell e, l ooki ng
aft er hi m, shook her head.
“ You can’t r eall y have t hought he was goi ng t o do anyt hi ng el se,” sai d Si mon.
For a mo ment she sai d not hi ng. He wonder ed if maybe she was j ust pl anni ng t o i gnor e anyt hi ng he sai d f or t he
r est of et er nit y. “I kno w,” she sai d fi nall y. “I j ust wi sh I kne w what was goi ng on wit h t he m.”
“I’ m not sur e tkhneoy w.”
Isabell e was worryi ng at her bott o m li p. She l ooked very young all of a sudden, and unusuall y confli ct ed, f or
Isabelle. Something was clearly going on with her, and Simon waited quietly while she appeared to come to a
deci si on. “I don’t want t o be li ke t hat,” she sai d. “ Co me on. I want t o t al k t o you.” She st art ed t o head t o war d t he
I nstit ut e doors.
“You do?” Simon was astonished.
She spun and gl ar ed at hi m. “ Ri ght no w I do. But I can’t pr o mi se ho w l ong it’ll l ast.”
Si mon hel d hi s hands up. “I want t o t al k t o you, Iz. But I can’t go i nt o t he I nstit ut e.”
A li ne appear ed bet ween her eyebr o ws. “ Why?” She br oke off, l ooki ng fr o m hi m t o t he doors, t o Ca mill e, and
back agai n. “ Oh. Ri ght. Ho w di d you get i n her e, t hen?”
“ Port al ed,” sai d Si mon. “ But Jace sai d t her e’ s an entry way t hat l eads t o a set of doors t hat go out si de. So
va mpir es can ent er her e at ni ght.” He poi nt ed t o a narr o w door set i n t he wall a f e w f eet a way. It was secur ed wit h
a r usti ng ir on bolt, as if it hadn’t been used i n a whil e.
Isabelle shrugged. “Fine.”
The bolt made a scr eechi ng noi se when she yanked it back, sendi ng fl akes of r ust i nt o t he air i n a fi ne r ed spr ay.
Beyond t he door was a s mall st one r oo m, li ke t he vestry of a church, and a set of doors t hat most li kel y l ed
out si de. Ther e wer e no wi ndo ws, but col d air cr ept ar ound t he edges of t he doors, maki ng Isabell e, i n her short
dress, shiver.
“ Look, Isabell e,” Si mon sai d, fi guri ng t hat t he onus was on hi m t o st art t he di scussi on. “I r eall y a m sorry about what
I did. There’s no excuse—”
“ No, t her e i sn’t,” Isabell e sai d. “ And whil e you’r e at it, you mi ght want t o t ell me why you’r e hangi ng ar ound wit h t he
guy who Tur ned Mai a i nt o a wer e wolf.”
Si mon t ol d her t he st ory Jor dan had r ecount ed t o hi m, tryi ng t o keep hi s expl anati on as evenhanded as he coul d.
He f elt li ke it was at l east i mport ant t o expl ai n t o Isabell e t hat he hadn’t kno wn who Jor dan r eall y was at first, and
al so, t hat Jor dan r egr ett ed what he’ d done. “ Not t hat t hat makes it okay,” he fi ni shed. “ But, you kno w —” We’ve all
done bad things. But he coul dn’t bri ng hi mself t o t ell her about Maur een. Not ri ght no w.
“I kno w,” Isabell e sai d. “ And I’ ve hear d of t he Pr aet or Lupus. If t hey’r e willi ng t o have hi m as a me mber, he can’t be
a co mpl et e washout, I guess.” She l ooked at Si mon a littl e mor e cl osel y. “ Alt hough I don’t get why you need
so meone t o pr ot ect you. You have . . .” She poi nt ed at her f or ehead.
“I can’t go t hr ough t he r est of my lif e wit h peopl e r unni ng at me every day and t he Mark bl o wi ng t he m up,” Si mon
sai d. “I need t o kno w who’ s tryi ng t o kill me. Jor dan’ s hel pi ng wit h t hat. Jace t oo.”
“ Do you r eall y t hi nk Jor dan’ s hel pi ng you? Because t he Cl ave has so me pull wit h t he Pr aet or. We coul d get hi m
replaced.”
Si mon hesit at ed. “ Yeah,” he sai d. “I r eall y do t hi nk he’ s hel pi ng. And I can’t al ways r el y on t he Cl ave.”
“ Okay.” Isabell e l eaned back agai nst t he wall. “ Di d you ever wonder why I’ m so diff er ent fr o m my br ot hers?” she
asked wit hout pr ea mbl e. “ Al ec and Jace, I mean.”
Si mon bli nked. “ You mean asi de fr o m t he whol e t hi ng wher e you’r e a girl and t hey . . . ar en’t ?”
“ No. Not t hat, i di ot. I mean, l ook at t he t wo of t he m. They have no pr obl e m f alli ng i n l ove. They’r e bot h i n l ove. The
forever kind. They’re done. Look at Jace. He loves Clary like—like there’s nothing else in the world and there
never will be. Al ec’ s t he sa me. And Max —” Her voi ce caught. “I don’t kno w what it woul d have been li ke f or hi m.
But he tr ust ed everyone. And as you mi ght have noti ced, I don’t tr ust anyone.”
“ Peopl e ar e diff er ent,” Si mon sai d, tryi ng t o sound underst andi ng. “It doesn’t mean t hey’r e happi er t han you —”
“ Sur e it does,” Isabell e sai d. “ You t hi nk I don’t kno w t hat ?” She l ooked at Si mon, har d. “ You kno w my par ent s.”
“ Not well.” They had never been t erri bl y eager t o meet Isabell e’ s va mpir e boyfri end, a sit uati on t hat hadn’t done
much t o a meli or at e Si mon’ s f eeli ng t hat he was mer el y t he l at est i n a l ong li ne of undesir abl e suit ors.
“ Well, you kno w t hey wer e bot h i n t he Circl e. But I bet y ou di dn’t kno w it was all my mo m’ s i dea. My dad was never
r eall y ent husi asti c about Val enti ne or any of it. And t hen when everyt hi ng happened, and t hey got bani shed, and
t hey r eali zed t hey’ d pr acti call y wr ecked t heir li ves, I t hi nk he bl a med her. But t hey alr eady had Al ec and wer e
goi ng t o have me, so he st ayed, even t hough I t hi nk he ki nd of want ed t o l eave. And t hen, when Al ec was about
ni ne, he f ound so meone el se.”
“ Whoa,” Si mon sai d. “ Your dad cheat ed on your mo m? That’ s —t hat’ s a wf ul.”
“ She t ol d me,” sai d Isabell e. “I was about t hirt een. She t ol d me t hat he woul d have l eft her but t hey f ound out she
was pr egnant wit h Max, so t hey st ayed t oget her and he br oke it off wit h t he ot her wo man. My mo m di dn’t t ell me
who she was. She j ust t ol d me t hat you coul dn’t r eall y tr ust men. And she t ol d me not t o t ell anyone.”
“And did you? Tell anyone?”
“ Not until no w,” Isabell e sai d.
Si mon t hought of a younger Isabell e, keepi ng t he secr et, never t elli ng anyone, hi di ng it fr o m her br ot hers. Kno wi ng
t hi ngs about t heir f a mil y t hat t hey woul d never kno w. “ She shoul dn’t have asked you t o do t hat,” he sai d, suddenl y
angry. “ That wasn’t f air.”
“ Maybe,” sai d Isabell e. “I t hought it made me speci al. I di dn’t t hi nk about ho w it mi ght have changed me. But I
wat ch my br ot hers gi ve t heir heart s a way and I t hi nk, Don’t you kno w bett er ? Heart s ar e br eakabl e. And I t hi nk
even when you heal, you’r e never what you wer e bef or e.”
“ Maybe you’r e bett er,” sai d Si mon. “I kno w I’ m bett er.”
“You mean Clary,” said Isabelle. “Because she broke your heart.”
“I nt o littl e pi eces. You kno w, when so meone pr ef ers t heir o wn br ot her over you, it i sn’t a confi dence boost er. I
t hought maybe once she r eali zed it woul d never work out wit h Jace, she’ d gi ve up and co me back t o me. But I
fi nall y fi gur ed out t hat she’ d never st op l ovi ng Jace, whet her it was goi ng t o work out wit h hi m or not. And I kne w
t hat if she was onl y wit h me because she coul dn’t have hi m, I’ d r at her be al one, so I ended it.”
“I di dn’t kno w you br oke it off wit h her,” sai d Isabell e. “I assu med . . .”
“ That I had no self-r espect ?” Si mon s mil ed wryl y.
“I t hought t hat you wer e still i n l ove wit h Cl ary,” Isabell e sai d. “ And t hat you coul dn’t be seri ous about anyone el se.”
“Because you pick guys who will never be serious about you,” said Simon. “So you never need to be serious
about t he m.”
Isabelle’s eyes shone when she looked at him, but she said nothing.
“I car e about you,” Si mon sai d. “I al ways car ed about you.”
She t ook a st ep t o war d hi m. They wer e st andi ng f airl y cl ose t oget her i n t he s mall r oo m, and he coul d hear t he
sound of her br eat hi ng, and t he f ai nt er pul se of her heart beat under neat h. She s mell ed of sha mpoo and s weat and
gardenia perfume and Shadowhunter blood.
The thought of blood made him remember Maureen, and his body tensed. Isabelle noticed—of course she
noti ced, she was a warri or, her senses fi nel y t uned t o even t he sli ght est move ment i n ot hers —and dr e w back, her
expr essi on ti ght eni ng. “ All ri ght,” she sai d. “ Well, I’ m gl ad we t al ked.”
“Isabelle—”
But she was alr eady gone. He went aft er her i nt o t he Sanct uary, but she was movi ng f ast. By t he ti me t he vestry
door shut behind him, she was halfway across the room. He gave up and watched as she disappeared through
t he doubl e doors i nt o t he I nstit ut e, kno wi ng he coul dn’t f oll o w.
Cl ary sat up, shaki ng her head t o cl ear t he gr oggi ness. It t ook her a mo ment t o r e me mber wher e she was —i n a
spar e bedr oo m i n t he I nstit ut e, t he onl y li ght i n t he r oo m t he ill u mi nati on t hat str ea med i n t hr ough t he si ngl e hi gh
wi ndo w. It was bl ue li ght —t wili ght li ght. She l ay t wi st ed i n t he bl anket; her j eans, j acket, and shoes wer e st acked
neatl y on a chair near t he bed. And besi de her was Jace, l ooki ng do wn at her, as if she had conj ur ed hi m up by
dreaming of him.
He was sitti ng on t he bed, weari ng hi s gear, as if he had j ust co me fr o m a fi ght, and hi s hair was t ousl ed, t he di m
li ght fr o m t he wi ndo w ill u mi nati ng shado ws under hi s eyes, t he holl o ws of hi s t e mpl es, t he bones of hi s cheeks. I n
this light he had the extreme and almost unreal beauty of a Modigliani painting, all elongated planes and angles.
She r ubbed at her eyes, bli nki ng a way sl eep. “ What ti me i s it ?” she sai d. “ Ho w l ong —”
He pull ed her t o war d hi m and ki ssed her, and f or a mo ment she fr oze, suddenl y very consci ous t hat all she was
weari ng was a t hi n T-shirt and under wear. Then she went bonel ess agai nst hi m. It was t he sort of li ngeri ng ki ss
t hat t ur ned her i nsi des t o wat er. The sort of ki ss t hat mi ght have made her f eel t hat not hi ng was wr ong, t hat t hi ngs
wer e as t hey had been bef or e, and he was onl y gl ad t o see her. But when hi s hands went t o lift t he he m of her Tshirt,
she pushed t he m a way.
“ No,” she sai d, her fi ngers wr apped ar ound hi s wri st s. “ You can’t j ust keep gr abbi ng at me every ti me you see me.
It’ s not a substit ut e f or act uall y t al ki ng.”
He t ook a r agged br eat h and sai d, “ Why di d you t ext Isabell e i nst ead of me? If you wer e i n tr oubl e —”
“ Because I kne w she’ d co me,” sai d Cl ary. “ And I don’t kno w t hat about you. Not ri ght no w.”
“If something had happened to you—”
“ Then I guess you woul d have hear d about it event uall y. You kno w, when you dei gned t o act uall y pi ck up t he
phone.” She was still hol di ng hi s wri st s; she l et go of t he m no w, and sat back. It was har d, physi call y har d, t o be
cl ose t o hi m li ke t hi s and not t ouch hi m, but she f orced her hands do wn by her si des and kept t he m t her e. “ Eit her
you t ell me what’ s wr ong, or you can get out of t he r oo m.”
Hi s li ps part ed, but he sai d not hi ng; she di dn’t t hi nk she’ d spoken t o hi m t hi s harshl y i n a l ong ti me. “I’ m sorry,” he
sai d fi nall y. “I mean, I kno w, wit h t he way I’ ve been acti ng, you’ ve got no r eason t o li st en t o me. And I pr obabl y
shoul dn’t have co me i n her e. But when Isabell e sai d you wer e hurt, I coul dn’t st op myself.”
“ So me bur ns,” Cl ary sai d. “ Not hi ng t hat matt ers.”
“ Everyt hi ng t hat happens t o you matt ers t o me.”
“ Well, t hat cert ai nl y expl ai ns why you haven’t call ed me back once. And t he l ast ti me I sa w you, you r an a way
wit hout t elli ng me why. It’ s li ke dati ng a ghost.”
Jace’ s mout h quirked up sli ghtl y at t he si de. “ Not exactl y. Isabell e act uall y dat ed a ghost. She coul d t ell you —”
“ No,” Cl ary sai d. “It was a met aphor. And you kno w exactl y what I mean.”
For a mo ment he was sil ent. Then he sai d, “ Let me see t he bur ns.”
She hel d out her ar ms. Ther e wer e harsh r ed spl ot ches on t he i nsi des of her wri st s wher e t he de mon’ s bl ood had
spatt er ed. He t ook her wri st s, very li ghtl y, l ooki ng at her f or per mi ssi on first, and t ur ned t he m over. She
r e me mber ed t he first ti me he had t ouched her, i n t he str eet out si de Java Jones, searchi ng her hands f or Marks
she di dn’t have. “ De mon bl ood,” he sai d. “ They’ll go a way i n a f e w hours. Do t hey hurt ?”
Clary shook her head.
“I di dn’t kno w,” he sai d. “I di dn’t kno w you needed me.”
Her voi ce shook. “I al ways need you.”
He bent hi s head and ki ssed t he bur n on her wri st. A fl ar e of heat coursed t hr ough her, li ke a hot spi ke t hat went
fr o m her wri st t o t he pit of her st o mach. “I di dn’t r eali ze,” he sai d. He ki ssed t he next bur n, on her f or ear m, and t hen
t he next, movi ng up her ar m t o her shoul der, t he pr essur e of hi s body beari ng her back until she was l yi ng agai nst
t he pill o ws, l ooki ng up at hi m. He pr opped hi mself on hi s el bo ws so as not t o cr ush her wit h hi s wei ght and l ooked
do wn at her.
His eyes always darkened when they kissed, as if desire changed their color in some fundamental way. He
t ouched t he whit e st ar mark on her shoul der, t he one t hey bot h had, t hat marked t he m as t he chil dr en of t hose who
had had cont act wit h angel s. “I kno w I’ ve been acti ng str ange l at el y,” he sai d. “ But it’ s not you. I l ove you. That
never changes.”
“Then what —?”
“I t hi nk everyt hi ng t hat happened i n I dri s —Val enti ne, Max, Hodge, even Sebasti an —I kept shovi ng it all do wn,
tryi ng t o f or get, but it’ s cat chi ng up wit h me. I . . . I’ll get hel p. I’ll get bett er. I pr o mi se.”
“You promise.”
“I s wear on t he Angel.” He ducked hi s head do wn, ki ssed her cheek. “ The hell wit h t hat. I s wear ouns .”
Cl ary wound her fi ngers i nt o t he sl eeve of hi s T-shirt. “ Why us?”
“ Because t her e i sn’t anyt hi ng I beli eve i n mor e.” He tilt ed hi s head t o t he si de. “If we wer e t o get marri ed,” he
began, and he must have f elt her t ense under hi m, because he s mil ed. “ Don’t pani c, I’ m not pr oposi ng on t he spot.
I was j ust wonderi ng what you kne w about Shado whunt er weddi ngs.”
“ No ri ngs,” Cl ary sai d, br ushi ng her fi ngers acr oss t he back of hi s neck, wher e t he ski n was soft. “Just r unes.”
“ One her e,” he sai d, gentl y t ouchi ng her ar m, wher e t he scar was, wit h a fi ngerti p. “ And anot her her e.” He sli d hi s
fi ngerti p up her ar m, acr oss her coll ar bone, and do wn until it r est ed over her r aci ng heart. “ The rit ual i s t aken fr o m
t he Song of Sol o mon. ‘ Set me as a seal upon t hi ne heart, as a seal upon t hi ne ar m: f or l ove i s str ong as deat h.’”
“ Ours i s str onger t han t hat,” Cl ary whi sper ed, r e me mberi ng ho w she had br ought hi m back. And t hi s ti me, when
his eyes darkened, she reached up and drew him down to her mouth.
They ki ssed f or a l ong ti me, until most of t he li ght had bl ed out of t he r oo m and t hey wer e j ust shado ws. Jace di dn’t
move hi s hands or try t o t ouch her, t hough, and she sensed he was waiti ng f or per mi ssi on.
She r eali zed she woul d have t o be t he one t o t ake it f urt her, if she want ed t o —and she di d want t o. He’ d ad mitt ed
so met hi ng was wr ong and t hat it had not hi ng t o do wit h her. Thi s was pr ogr ess: positi ve pr ogr ess. He ought t o be
r e war ded, ri ght ? A littl e gri n cr ooked t he edge of her mout h. Who was she ki ddi ng; she want ed mor e on her o wn
behalf. Because he was Jace, because she l oved hi m, because he was so gor geous t hat so meti mes she f elt t he
need t o poke hi m i n t he ar m j ust t o make sur e he was r eal.
She di d j ust t hat.
“ Ow,” he sai d. “ What was t hat f or ?”
“ Take your shirt off,” she whi sper ed. She r eached f or t he he m of it but he was alr eady t her e, lifti ng it over hi s head
and t ossi ng it casuall y t o t he fl oor. He shook hi s hair out, and she al most expect ed t he bri ght gol d str ands t o
scatt er sparks i n t he darkness of t he r oo m.
“ Sit up,” she sai d softl y. Her heart was poundi ng. She di dn’t usuall y t ake t he l ead i n t hese sort of sit uati ons, but he
di dn’t see m t o mi nd. He sat up sl o wl y, pulli ng her up wit h hi m, until t hey wer e bot h sitti ng a mong t he welt er of
bl anket s. She cr a wl ed i nt o hi s l ap, str addli ng hi s hi ps. No w t hey wer e f ace-t o-f ace. She hear d hi m suck hi s br eat h
i n and he r ai sed hi s hands, r eachi ng f or her shirt, but she pushed t he m back do wn agai n, gentl y, t o hi s si des, and
put her o wn hands on hi m i nst ead. She wat ched her fi ngers sli de over hi s chest and ar ms, t he s well of hi s bi ceps
wher e t he bl ack Marks t wi ned, t he st ar-shaped mark on hi s shoul der. She tr aced her i ndex fi nger do wn t he li ne
between his pectoral muscles, across his flat washboard stomach. They were both breathing hard when she
r eached t he buckl e on hi s j eans, but he di dn’t move, j ust l ooked at her wit h an expr essi on t hat sai d: What ever you
want .
Her heart t huddi ng, she dr opped her hands t o t he he m of her o wn shirt and pull ed it off over her head. She wi shed
she’ d wor n a mor e exciti ng br a —t hi s one was pl ai n whit e cott on —but when she l ooked up agai n at Jace’ s
expression, the thought evaporated. His lips were parted, his eyes nearly black; she could see herself reflected in
t he m and kne w he di dn’t car e if her br a was whit e or bl ack or neon gr een. All he was seei ng was her.
She r eached f or hi s hands, t hen, fr eei ng t he m, and put t he m on her wai st, as if t o say, You can t ouch me no w. He
tilt ed hi s head up, her mout h ca me do wn over hi s, and t hey wer e ki ssi ng agai n, but it was fi erce i nst ead of
l anguor ous, a hot and f ast- bur ni ng fir e. Hi s hands wer e f everi sh: i n her hair, on her body, pulli ng her do wn so t hat
she l ay under hi m, and as t heir bar e ski n sli d t oget her she was acut el y consci ous t hat t her e r eall y was not hi ng
bet ween t he m but hi s j eans and her br a and panti es. She t angl ed her hands i n hi s sil ky, di shevel ed hair, hol di ng
hi s head as he ki ssed do wn her t hr oat. Ho w f ar ar e we goi ng? What ar e we doi ng? a s mall part of her br ai n was
aski ng, but t he r est of her mi nd was scr ea mi ng at t hat s mall part t o shut up. She want ed t o keep t ouchi ng hi m,
ki ssi ng hi m; she want ed hi m t o hol d her and t o kno w t hat he was r eal, her e wit h her, and t hat he woul d never l eave
again.
Hi s fi ngers f ound t he cl asp of her br a. She t ensed. Hi s eyes wer e l ar ge and l u mi nous i n t he darkness, hi s s mil e
sl o w. “Is t hi s all ri ght ?”
She nodded. Her br eat h was co mi ng f ast. No one i n her entir e lif e had ever seen her t opl ess —no boy, any way. As
if sensi ng her nervousness, he cupped her f ace gentl y wit h one hand, hi s li ps t easi ng hers, br ushi ng gentl y acr oss
t he m until her whol e body f elt as if it wer e shatt eri ng wit h t ensi on. Hi s l ong-fi nger ed, call used ri ght hand str oked
al ong her cheek, t hen her shoul der, soot hi ng her. She was still on edge, t hough, waiti ng f or hi s ot her hand t o move
back t o her br a cl asp, t o t ouch her agai n, but he see med t o be r eachi ng f or so met hi ng behi nd hi m—What was he
doing?
Cl ary t hought suddenl y of what Isabell e had sai d about bei ng car ef ul. Oh, she t hought. She stiff ened a littl e and
dr e w back. “Jace, I’ m not sur e I —”
Ther e was a fl ash of sil ver i n t he darkness, and so met hi ng col d and shar p l anced acr oss t he si de of her ar m. All
she f elt f or a mo ment was sur pri se —t hen pai n. She dr e w her hands back, bli nki ng, and sa w a li ne of dark bl ood
beadi ng on her ski n wher e a shall o w cut r an fr o m her el bo w t o her wri st. “ Ouch,” she sai d, mor e i n annoyance and
sur pri se t han hurt. “ What —”
Jace l aunched hi mself off her, off t he bed, i n a si ngl e moti on. Suddenl y he was st andi ng i n t he mi ddl e of t he r oo m,
shirtl ess, hi s f ace as whit e as bone.
Hand cl asped acr oss her i nj ur ed ar m, Cl ary st art ed t o sit up. “Jace, what —”
She br oke off. I n hi s l eft hand he was cl ut chi ng a knif e —t he sil ver- handl ed knif e she had seen i n t he box t hat had
bel onged t o hi s f at her. Ther e was a t hi n s mear of bl ood acr oss t he bl ade.
She l ooked do wn at her hand, and t hen up agai n, at hi m. “I don’t underst and. . . .”
He opened hi s hand, and t he knif e cl att er ed t o t he fl oor. For a mo ment he l ooked as if he mi ght r un agai n, t he way
he had out si de t he bar. Then he sank t o t he gr ound and put hi s head i n hi s hands.
“I li ke her,” sai d Ca mill e as t he doors shut behi nd Isabell e. “ She r at her r e mi nds me of me.”
Si mon t ur ned t o l ook at her. It was very di m i n t he Sanct uary, but he coul d see her cl earl y, her back agai nst t he
pill ar, her hands bound behi nd her. Ther e was a Shado whunt er guar d st ati oned near t he doors t o t he I nstit ut e, but
eit her he hadn’t hear d Ca mill e or he wasn’t i nt er est ed.
Si mon moved a bit cl oser t o Ca mill e. The bonds t hat constr ai ned her hel d an odd f asci nati on f or hi m. Bl essed
met al. The chai n see med t o gl ea m softl y agai nst her pal e ski n, and he t hought he coul d see a f e w t hr eads of
bl ood seepi ng ar ound t he manacl es at her wri st s. “ She i sn’t at all li ke you.”
“ So you t hi nk.” Ca mill e tilt ed her head t o t he si de; her bl ond hair see med artf ull y arr anged ar ound her f ace, t hough
he kne w she coul dn’t have t ouched it. “ You l ove t he m so,” she sai d, “your Shado whunt er fri ends. As t he f al con
l oves t he mast er who bi nds and bli nds it.”
“ Thi ngs ar en’t li ke t hat,” Si mon sai d. “ Shado whunt ers and Do wnworl ders ar en’t ene mi es.”
“ You can’t even go wit h t he m i nt o t heir ho me,” she sai d. “ You ar e shut out. Yet so eager t o serve t he m. You woul d
st and on t heir si de agai nst your o wn ki nd.”
“I have no ki nd,” Si mon sai d. “I’ m not one of t he m. But I’ m not one of you, eit her. And I’ d r at her be li ke t he m t han
li ke you.”
“You are one of us.” She moved i mpati entl y, r attli ng her chai ns, and gave a littl e gasp of pai n. “ Ther e i s so met hi ng
I di dn’t say t o you, back at t he bank. But it i s tr ue.” She s mil ed ti ghtl y t hr ough t he pai n. “I can s mell hu man bl ood on
you. You f ed r ecentl y. On a mundane.”
Si mon f elt so met hi ng i nsi de hi m j u mp. “I . . .”
“It was wonderf ul, wasn’t it ?” Her r ed li ps curved. “ The first ti me si nce you’ ve been a va mpir e t hat you haven’t been
hungry.”
“No,” Simon said.
“ You’r e l yi ng.” Ther e was convi cti on i n her voi ce. “ They try t o make us fi ght agai nst our nat ur es, t he Nephili m. They
will accept us onl y if we pr et end t o be ot her t han we ar e —not hunt ers, not pr edat ors. Your fri ends will never accept
what you ar e, onl y what you pr et end t o be. What you do f or t he m, t hey woul d never do f or you.”
“I don’t kno w why you’r e bot heri ng wit h t hi s,” sai d Si mon. “ What’ s done i s done. I’ m not goi ng t o l et you go. I made
my choi ce. I don’t want what you off er ed me.”
“ Maybe not no w,” Ca mill e sai d softl y. “ But you will. You will.”
The Shadowhunter guard stepped back as the door opened, and Maryse came into the room. She was followed
by t wo fi gur es i mmedi at el y f a mili ar t o Si mon: Isabell e’ s br ot her Al ec, and hi s boyfri end, t he warl ock Magnus
Bane.
Al ec was dr essed i n a sober bl ack suit; Magnus, t o Si mon’ s sur pri se, was si mil arl y dr essed, wit h t he additi on of a
l ong whit e sil k scarf wit h t assel ed ends and a pair of whit e gl oves. Hi s hair st ood up li ke it al ways di d, but f or a
change he was devoi d of glitt er. Ca mill e, upon seei ng hi m, went very still.
Magnus di dn’t see m t o see her yet; he was li st eni ng t o Maryse, who was sayi ng, r at her a wk war dl y, t hat it was
good of t he m t o co me so qui ckl y. “ We r eall y di dn’t expect you until t o morr o w, at t he earli est.”
Al ec made a muffl ed noi se of annoyance and gazed off i nt o space. He see med as if he wasn’t happy t o be t her e
at all. Beyond t hat, Si mon t hought, he l ooked much t he sa me as he al ways had —sa me bl ack hair, sa me st eady
blue eyes—although there was something more relaxed about him than there had been before, as if he had grown
i nt o hi mself so meho w.
“ Fort unat el y t her e’ s a Port al l ocat ed near t he Vi enna Oper a House,” Magnus sai d, fli ngi ng hi s scarf back over hi s
shoul der wit h a gr and gest ur e. “ The mo ment we got your message, we hurri ed t o be her e.”
“I still r eall y don’t see what any of t hi s has t o do wit h us,” Al ec sai d. “ So you caught a va mpir e who was up t o
something nasty. Aren’t they always?”
Si mon f elt hi s st o mach t ur n. He l ooked t o war d Ca mill e t o see if she was l aughi ng at hi m, but her gaze was fi xed
on Magnus.
Al ec, l ooki ng at Si mon f or t he first ti me, fl ushed. It was al ways very noti ceabl e on hi m because hi s ski n was so
pal e. “ Sorry, Si mon. I di dn’t mean you. You’r e diff er ent.”
Woul d you t hi nk t hat if you had seen me l ast ni ght, f eedi ng on a f ourt een-year- ol d girl ? Si mon t hought. He di dn’t
say t hat, t hough, j ust dr opped Al ec a nod.
“ She i s of i nt er est i n our curr ent i nvesti gati on i nt o t he deat hs of t hr ee Shado whunt ers,” sai d Maryse. “ We need
i nf or mati on fr o m her, and she will onl y t al k t o Magnus Bane.”
“ Reall y?” Al ec l ooked at Ca mill e wit h puzzl ed i nt er est. “ Onl y t o Magnus?”
Magnus f oll o wed hi s gaze, and f or t he first ti me —or so it see med t o Si mon —l ooked at Ca mill e dir ectl y.
So met hi ng cr ackl ed bet ween t he m, a sort of ener gy. Magnus’ s mout h quirked up at t he cor ners i nt o a wi stf ul
s mil e.
“ Yes,” Maryse sai d, a l ook of puzzl e ment passi ng over her f ace as she caught t he l ook bet ween t he warl ock and
t he va mpir e. “ That i s, if Magnus i s willi ng.”
“I a m,” Magnus sai d, dr a wi ng off hi s gl oves. “I’ll t al k t o Ca mill e f or you.”
“ Ca mill e?” Al ec l ooked at Magnus wit h hi s eyebr o ws r ai sed. “ You kno w her, t hen? Or —she kno ws you?”
“ We kno w each ot her.” Magnus shr ugged, very sli ghtl y, as if t o say, What can you do? “ Once upon a ti me she was
my girlfri end.”
13
GI RL FOUND DEAD
“Your girlfri end?” Al ec l ooked ast oni shed. So di d Mar yseS.i mon couldn’t say he was unastonished hi mself.
“ You dat ed a vampire? A girl vampire?”
“It was a hundr ed and t hirt y years ago,” sai d Magnus. “I haven’t seen her si nce.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Alec demanded.
Magnus si ghed. “ Al exander, I’ ve been ali ve f or hundr eds of years. I’ ve been wit h men, been wit h wo men —wit h
faeries and warlocks and vampires, and even a djinn or two.” He looked sideways at Maryse, who looked mildly
horrifi ed. “ Too much i nf or mati on?”
“It’ s all ri ght,” she sai d, t hough she sounded a littl e wan. “I have t o di scuss so met hi ng wit h Kadir f or a mo ment. I’ll
be back.” She stepped aside, joining Kadir; they disappeared through the doorway. Simon took a few steps back
as well, pr et endi ng t o st udy one of t he st ai ned- gl ass wi ndo ws i nt entl y, but hi s va mpir e heari ng was good enough
t hat he coul d hear everyt hi ng Magnus and Al ec wer e sayi ng t o each ot her, whet her he want ed t o or not. Ca mill e,
he kne w, coul d hear it t oo. She had her head cocked t o t he si de as she li st ened, her eyes heavy-li dded and
thoughtful.
“ Ho w many ot her people?” Alec asked. “Roughly.”
Magnus shook hi s head. “I can’t count, and it doesn’t matt er. The onl y t hi ng t hat matt ers i s ho w I f eel about you.”
“More than a hundred?” Alec asked. Magnus looked bTlwaon k. “ hundred?”
“I can’t beli eve we’r e havi ng t hi s conversati on no w,” Magnus sai d, t o no one i n parti cul ar. Si mon was i ncli ned t o
agr ee, and wi shed t hey wer en’t havi ng it i n fr ont of hi m.
“ Why so many?” Al ec’ s bl ue eyes wer e very bri ght i n t he di mness. Si mon coul dn’t t ell if he was angry. He di dn’t
sound angry, j ust very i nt ense, but Al ec was a shut- do wn person, and per haps t hi s was as angry as he ever got.
“ Do you get bor ed wit h peopl e f ast ?”
“I li ve f or ever,” Magnus sai d qui etl y. “ But not everyone does.”
Al ec l ooked as if so meone had hit hi m. “ So you j ust st ay wit h t he m as l ong as t hey li ve, and t hen you fi nd so meone
else?”
Magnus di dn’t say anyt hi ng. He l ooked at Al ec, hi s eyes shi ni ng li ke a cat’ s. “ Woul d you r at her I spent all of
eternity alone?”
Al ec’ s mout h t wit ched. “I’ m goi ng t o fi nd Isabell e,” he sai d, and wit hout anot her wor d he t ur ned and wal ked back
i nt o t he I nstit ut e.
Magnus wat ched hi m go wit h sad eyes. Not a hu man sort of sad, Si mon t hought. Hi s eyes see med t o cont ai n t he
sadness of gr eat ages, as if t he shar p edges of hu man sadness had been wor n do wn t o so met hi ng soft er by t he
passing of years, the way sea water wore away the sharp edges of glass.
As if he could tell Simon was thinking about him, Magnus looked at him sideways. “Eavesdropping, vampire?”
“I r eall y don’t l ove it when peopl e call me t hat,” Si mon sai d. “I have a na me.”
“I suppose I’ d bett er r e me mber it. Aft er all, i n a hundr ed, t wo hundr ed, years, it’ll be j ust you and me.” Magnus
r egar ded Si mon t houghtf ull y. “ We’ll be all t hat’ s l eft.”
The t hought made Si mon f eel as if he wer e i n an el evat or t hat had suddenl y br oken fr ee of it s moori ngs and
st art ed pl ungi ng t o war d t he gr ound, a t housand st ori es do wn. The t hought had passed t hr ough hi s mi nd bef or e, of
course, but he had al ways pushed it a way. The t hought t hat he woul d st ay si xt een whil e Cl ary got ol der, Jace got
older, everyone he knew got older, grew up, had children, and nothing ever changed for him was too enormous
and horrible to contemplate.
Bei ng si xt een f or ever sounded good until you r eall y t hought about it. Then it di dn’t see m li ke such a gr eat pr ospect
any mor e.
Magnus’ s cat eyes wer e a cl ear gol d- gr een. “ St ari ng et er nit y i n t he f ace,” he sai d. “ Not so much f un, i s it ?”
Before Simon could reply, Maryse had returned. “Where’s Alec?” she asked, looking around in puzzlement.
“ He went t o see Isabell e,” sai d Si mon, bef or e Magnus had t o say anyt hi ng.
“ Very well.” Maryse s moot hed t he fr ont of her j acket do wn, t hough it wasn’t wri nkl ed. “If you woul dn’t mi nd . . .”
“I’ll t al k t o Ca mill e,” sai d Magnus. “ But I want t o do it al one. If you’ d li ke t o wait f or me i n t he I nstit ut e, I’ll j oi n you
t her e when I’ m fi ni shed.”
Maryse hesit at ed. “ You kno w what t o ask her ?”
Magnus’ s gaze was unwaveri ng. “I kno w ho w t o t al k t o her, yes. If she i s willi ng t o say anyt hi ng, she’ll say it t o me.”
Bot h of t he m see med t o have f or gott en t hat Si mon was t her e. “ Shoul d I go t oo?” he asked, i nt err upti ng t heir
st ari ng cont est.
Maryse l ooked at hi m, half- di str act ed. “ Oh, yes. Thank you f or your hel p, Si mon, but you’r e no l onger needed. Go
ho me if you li ke.”
Magnus sai d not hi ng at all. Wit h a shr ug Si mon t ur ned and went t o war d t he door t hat l ed t o t he vestry and t he exit
t hat woul d t ake hi m out si de. At t he door he paused and l ooked back. Maryse and Magnus wer e still t al ki ng,
though the guard was already holding open the Institute door, ready to leave. Only Camille seemed to remember
t hat Si mon was t her e at all. She was s mili ng at hi m fr o m her pill ar, her li ps curved up at t he cor ners, her eyes
shining like a promise.
Si mon went out, and cl osed t he door behi nd hi m.
“It happens every ni ght.” Jace was sitti ng on t he fl oor, hi s l egs dr a wn up, hi s hands dangli ng bet ween hi s knees.
He had put t he knif e on t he bed next t o Cl ary; she kept one hand on it whil e he t al ked —mor e t o r eassur e hi m t han
because she needed it t o def end herself. All t he ener gy see med t o have dr ai ned out of Jace; even hi s voi ce
sounded empty and far away while he talked, asif he wer e speaki ng t o her fr o m a gr eat di st ance. “I dr ea m t hat
you co me i nt o my r oo m and we . . . st art doi ng what we wer e j ust doi ng. And t hen I hurt you. I cut you or str angl e or
st ab you, and you di e, l ooki ng up at me wit h t hose gr een eyes of yours whil e your lif e bl eeds a way bet ween my
hands.”
“They’re only dreams,” Clary said gently.
“ You j ust sa w t hat t hey ar en’t,” sai d Jace. “I was wi de a wake when I pi cked up t hat knif e.”
Cl ary kne w he was ri ght. “ Ar e you worri ed t hat you’r e goi ng cr azy?”
He shook hi s head sl o wl y. Hair f ell i nt o hi s eyes; he pushed it back. Hi s hair had gott en a littl e t oo l ong; he hadn’t
cut it i n a whil e, and Cl ary wonder ed if it was because he coul dn’t be bot her ed. Ho w coul d she not have pai d mor e
att enti on t o t he shado ws under hi s eyes, t he bitt en nail s, t he dr a wn exhaust ed l ook of hi m? She had been so
concer ned about whet her he still l oved her t hat she had not t hought about anyt hi ng el se. “I’ m not so worri ed about
t hat, r eall y,” he sai d. “I’ m worri ed about hurti ng you. I’ m worri ed t hat what ever poi son it i s t hat’ s eati ng it s way i nt o
my dr ea ms will bl eed t hr ough i nt o my waki ng lif e and I’ll . . .” Hi s t hr oat see med t o cl ose up.
“ You woul d never hurt me.”
“I had t hat knif e i n my hand, Cl ary.” He l ooked up at her, and t hen a way. “If I hurt you . . .” Hi s voi ce tr ail ed off.
“ Shado whunt ers di e young, a l ot of t he ti me,” he sai d. “ We all kno w t hat. And you want ed t o be a Shado whunt er,
and I woul d never st op you because it i sn’t my j ob t o t ell you what t o do wit h your lif e. Especi all y when I’ m t aki ng
t he sa me ki nd of ri sks. What ki nd of person woul d I be if I t ol d you it was all ri ght f or me t o ri sk my lif e, but not f or
you? So I’ve thoughta bout what it woul d be li ke f or me if you di ed. I bet you’ ve t hought about t he sa me t hi ng.”
“I know what it would be like,” Clary said, remembering the lake, the sword, and Jace’s blood spreading over the
sand. He had been dead, and t he Angel had br ought hi m back, but t hose had been t he worst mi nut es of her lif e. “I
want ed t o di e. But I kne w ho w di sappoi nt ed i n me you’ d have been if I’ d j ust gi ven up.”
He s mil ed, t he ghost of a s mil e. “ And I’ ve t hought t he sa me t hi ng. If you di ed, I woul dn’t want t o li ve. But I woul dn’t
kill myself, because what ever happens aft er we di e, I want t o be wit h you t her e. And if I kill ed myself, I kno w you’ d
never t al k t o me agai n. I n any lif e. So I’ d li ve, and I’ d try t o make so met hi ng out of my lif e, until I coul d be wit h you
agai n. But ifh I urt you I— if was t he cause of your deat h —t her e’ s not hi ng t hat woul d keep me fr o m destr oyi ng
myself.”
“ Don’t say t hat.” Cl ary f elt chill ed t o t he bone. “Jace, you shoul d have t ol d me.”
“I coul dn’t.” Hi s voi ce was fl at, fi nal.
“ Why not?”
“I t hought I was Jace Li ght wood,” he sai d. “I t hought it was possi bl e t hat my upbri ngi ng hadn’t t ouched me. But no w
I wonder if maybe people can’t change. Maybe I’ll always be Jace Morgenstern, Valentine’s son. He raised me for
t en years, and maybe t hat’ s a st ai n t hat won’t ever bl each out.”
“ You t hi nk t hi s i s because of your f at her,” Cl ary sai d, and t he bit of st ory t hat Jace had t ol d her once r an t hr ough
her head, t o l ove i s t o destr oy. And t hen she t hought ho w str ange it was t hat she woul d call Val enti ne Jace’ s
f at her, when hi s bl ood r an i n her vei ns, not Jace’ s. But she had never f elt about Val enti ne t he way you mi ght f eel
about a f at her. And Jace had. “ And you di dn’t want me t o kno w?”
“ You’r e everyt hi ng I want,” Jace sai d. “ And maybe Jace Li ght wood deserves t o get everyt hi ng he want s. But Jace
Mor genst er n doesn’t. So me wher e i nsi de I must kno w t hat. Or I woul dn’t be tryi ng t o destr oy what we have.”
Cl ary t ook a deep br eat h, and l et it out sl o wl y. “I don’t t hi nk you ar e.”
He raised his head and blinked. “What do you mean?”
“ You t hi nk t hi s i s psychol ogi cal,” Cl ary sai d. “ That t her e’ s so met hi ng wr ong wit h you. Well, I don’t. I t hi nk so meone
i s doi ng t hi s t o you.”
“I don’t —”
“Ithuriel sent me dreams,” Clary said. “Maybe someone is sending you dreams.”
“It huri el sent you dr ea ms t o try t o hel p you. To gui de you t o t he tr ut h. What’ s t he poi nt of t hese dr ea ms? They’r e
sick, meaningless, sadistic—”
“ Maybe t hey have a meani ng,” Cl ary sai d. “ Maybe t he meani ng j ust i sn’t what you t hi nk. Or maybe whoever’ s
sendi ng t he m i s tryi ng t o hurt you.”
“Who would do that?”
“Someone who doesn’t like us very much,” said Clary, and pushed away an image of the Seelie Queen.
“ Maybe,” Jace sai d softl y, l ooki ng do wn at hi s hands. “ Sebasti an —”
So he doesn’t want t o call hi m Jonat han eit her, Cl ary t hought. She di dn’t bl a me hi m. It was hi s o wn na me t oo.
“ Sebasti an’ s dead,” she sai d, a littl e mor e shar pl y t han she’ d i nt ended. “ And if he had had t hi s sort of po wer, he
would have used it before.”
Doubt and hope chased each other across Jace’s face. “You really think someone else could be doing this?”
Cl ary’ s heart beat har d agai nst her ri b cage. Shewa sn’t s ur e; she want ed it so badl y t o be tr ue, but if it wasn’t,
she woul d have gott en Jace’ s hopes up f or not hi ng. Bot h t heir hopes.
But t hen she got t he f eeli ng it had been a whil e si nce Jace had f elt hopef ul about anyt hi ng.
“I t hi nk we shoul d go t o t he Sil ent Cit y,” she sai d. “ The Br ot hers can get i nt o your head and fi nd out if so meone’ s
been messi ng ar ound i n t her e. The way t hey di d wit h me.”
Jace opened his mouth and closed it again. “When?” he said finally.
“ No w,” Cl ary sai d. “I don’t want t o wait. Do you?”
He di dn’t r epl y, j ust got up off t he fl oor and pi cked up hi s shirt. He l ooked at Cl ary, and al most s mil ed. “If we’r e
goi ng t o t he Sil ent Cit y, you mi ght want t o get dr essed. I mean, I appr eci at e t he br a- and- panti es l ook, but I don’t
kno w if t he Sil ent Br ot hers will. Ther e ar e onl y a f e w of t he m l eft, and I don’t want t he m t o di e of excit e ment.”
Cl ary got up off t he bed and t hr e w a pill o w at hi m, mostl y out of r eli ef. She r eached f or her cl ot hes and began t o
pull her shirt on. Just bef or e it went over her head, she caught si ght of t he knif e l yi ng on t he bedspr ead, gl ea mi ng
li ke a f ork of sil very fl a me.
“ Ca mill e,” Magnus sai d. “It’ s been a l ong ti me, hasn’t it ?”
She smiled. Her skin looked whiter than he recalled, and dark spidery veins were beginning to show beneath its
surf ace. Her hair was still t he col or of spun sil ver, and her eyes wer e still as gr een as a cat’ s. She was still
beautif ul. Looki ng at her, he was i n London agai n. He sa w t he gasli ght and s mell ed t he s moke and dirt and
horses, t he met alli c t ang of f og, t he fl o wers i n Ke w Gar dens. He sa w a boy wit h bl ack hair and bl ue eyes li ke
Al ec’ s. A girl wit h l ong br o wn curl s and a seri ous f ace. I n a worl d wher e everyt hi ng went a way fr o m hi m event uall y,
she was one of t he f e w r e mai ni ng const ant s.
And t hen t her e was Ca mill e.
“I’ ve mi ssed you, Magnus,” she sai d.
“ No, you haven’t.” He sat do wn on t he fl oor of t he Sanct uary. He coul d f eel t he col d of t he st one t hr ough hi s cl ot hes.
He was gl ad he had wor n t he scarf. “ So why t he message f or me? Just st alli ng f or ti me?”
“ No.” She l eaned f or war d, t he chai ns r attli ng. He coul d al most hear t he hi ssi ng wher e t he bl essed met al t ouched
t he ski n of her wri st s. “I have hear d t hi ngs about you, Magnus. I have hear d t hat you ar e under t he wi ng of t he
Shado whunt ers t hese days. I had hear d t hat you have won t he l ove of one of t he m. That boy you wer e j ust t al ki ng
t o, I i magi ne. But t hen your t ast es wer e al ways di verse.”
“ You have been li st eni ng t o r u mors about me,” Magnus sai d. “ But you coul d si mpl y have asked me. All t hese years
I was i n Br ookl yn, not f ar a way at all, and I never hear d fr o m you. Never sa w you at one of my parti es. Ther e has
been a wall of i ce bet ween us, Ca mill e.”
I “ did not build it.” Her green eyes widened. “I have loved you always.”
“ You l eft me,” he sai d. “ You made a pet out of me, and t hen you l eft me. If l ove wer e f ood, I woul d have st arved on
t he bones you gave me.” He spoke matt er- of-f actl y. It had been a l ong ti me.
“ But we had all of et er nit y,” she pr ot est ed. “ You must have kno wn I woul d co me back t o you —”
“ Ca mill e.” Magnus spoke wit h i nfi nit e pati ence. “ What do y owuant ?”
Her chest r ose and f ell qui ckl y. Si nce she had no need t o br eat he, Magnus kne w t hi s was mai nl y f or eff ect. “I kno w
you have t he ear of t he Shado whunt ers,” she sai d. “I want you t o speak t o t he m on my behalf.”
“ You want me t o cut a deal f or you,” Magnus tr ansl at ed.
She cut her eyes at hi m. “ Your di cti on has al ways been so r egr ett abl y moder n.”
“They’re saying you killed three Shadowhunters,” said Magnus. “Did you?”
“ They wer e Circl e me mbers,” she sai d, her l o wer li p tr e mbli ng. “ They had t ort ur ed and kill ed my ki nd i n t he past. . .
.”
“Is t hat why you di d it ? Revenge?” When she was sil ent, Magnus sai d, “ You kno w what t hey do t o t hose who kill
Nephilim, Camille.”
Her eyes shone. “I need you t o i nt ercede f or me, Magnus. I want i mmunit y. I want a si gned pr o mi se fr o m t he Cl ave
t hat if I gi ve t he m i nf or mati on, t hey will spar e my lif e and set me fr ee.”
“ They’ll never set you fr ee.”
“ Then t hey’ll never kno w why t heir coll eagues had t o di e.”
“Hadt o di e?” Magnus mused. “I nt er esti ng wor di ng, Ca mill e. A m I corr ect t hat t her e i s mor e t o t hi s t han meet s t he
eye? More than blood or revenge?”
She was sil ent, l ooki ng at hi m, her chest ri si ng and f alli ng artf ull y. Everyt hi ng about her was artf ul —t he f all of her
sil very hair, t he curve of her t hr oat, even t he bl ood on her wri st s.
“If you want me t o speak t o t he m f or you,” Magnus sai d, “you have t o t ell me at l east so me s mall t hi ng. A sho w of
good f ait h.”
She s mil ed brilli antl y. “I kne w you woul d speak t o t he m f or me, Magnus. I kne w t he past was not entir el y dead f or
you.”
“ Consi der it undead if you li ke,” Magnus sai d. “ The tr ut h, Ca mill e?”
She r an her t ongue acr oss her l o wer li p. “ You can t ell t he m,” she sai d, “t hat I was under or ders when I kill ed t hose
Shado whunt ers. It di d not di st ur b me t o do it, f or t hey had kill ed my ki n, and t heir deat hs wer e deserved. But I
would not have done it unless requested to do so by someone else, someone much more powerful than myself.”
Magnus’ s heart beat a littl e f ast er. He di dn’t li ke t he sound of t hi s. “ Who?”
But Ca mill e shook her head. “I mmunit y, Magnus.”
“ Ca mill e —”
“ They will st ake me out i n t he sun and l eave me t o di e,” she sai d. “ That i s what t hey do t o t hose who sl ay
Nephili m.”
Magnus got t o hi s f eet. Hi s scarf was dust y fr o m l yi ng on t he gr ound. He l ooked at t he st ai ns mour nf ull y. “I’ll do
what I can, Ca mill e. But I make no pr o mi ses.”
“ You never woul d,” she mur mur ed, her eyes half-li dded. “ Co me her e, Magnus. Co me cl ose t o me.”
He di d not l ove her, but she was a dr ea m out of t he past, so he moved t o war d her, until he was st andi ng cl ose
enough to touch her. “Remember,” she said softly. “Remember London? The parties at de Quincey’s? Remember
Will Her ondal e? I kno w you do. That boy of yours, t hat Li ght wood. They even l ook ali ke.”
“ Do t hey?” Magnus sai d, as if he had never t hought about it.
“ Pr ett y boys have al ways been your undoi ng,” she sai d. “ But what can so me mort al chil d gi ve you? Ten years,
t went y, bef or e di ssol uti on begi ns t o cl ai m hi m. Fort y years, fift y, bef or e deat h t akes hi m. I can gi ve you all of
et er nit y.”
He t ouched her cheek. It was col der t han t he fl oor had been. “ You coul d gi ve me t he past,” he sai d a littl e sadl y.
“ But Al ec i s my f ut ur e.”
“Magnus—,” she began.
The I nstit ut e door opened, and Maryse st ood i n t he door way, outli ned by t he wit chli ght behi nd her. Besi de her was
Al ec, hi s ar ms cr ossed over hi s chest. Magnus wonder ed if Al ec had hear d any of t he conversati on bet ween hi m
and Camille through the door—surely not?
“Magnus,” said Maryse Lightwood. “Have you come to some agreement?”
Magnus dr opped hi s hand. “I’ m not sur e I’ d call it an agr ee ment,” he sai d, t ur ni ng t o Maryse. “ But I do t hi nk we
have so me t hi ngs t o t al k about.”
Dr essed, Cl ary went wit h Jace t o hi s r oo m, wher e he packed a s mall canvas bag wit h t hi ngs t o bri ng wit h hi m t o
t he Sil ent Cit y, as if, she t hought, he wer e goi ng t o so me gri m sl eepover part y. Weapons mostl y —a f e w ser aph
bl ades; hi s st el e; and al most as an aft ert hought, t he sil ver- handl ed knif e, it s bl ade no w cl eaned of bl ood. He sli d
on a bl ack l eat her j acket, and she wat ched as he zi pped it, pulli ng l oose str ands of bl ond hair fr ee of hi s coll ar.
When he t ur ned t o l ook at her, sli ngi ng hi s bag acr oss hi s shoul der, he s mil ed f ai ntl y, and she sa w t he sli ght chi p
i n hi s fr ont l eft i nci sor t hat she had al ways t hought was endeari ng, a littl e fl a w i n l ooks t hat woul d ot her wi se be t oo
perf ect. Her heart contr act ed, and f or a mo ment she l ooked a way fr o m hi m, har dl y abl e t o br eat he.
He hel d out hi s hand t o her. “ Let’ s go.”
Ther e was no way t o su mmon t he Sil ent Br ot hers t o co me and get t he m, so Jace and Cl ary t ook a t axi headi ng
do wnt o wn t o war d Houst on and t he Mar bl e Ce met ery. Cl ary supposed t hey coul d j ust have Port al ed i nt o t he Bone
Cit y —she’ d been t her e bef or e; she kne w what it l ooked li ke —but Jace sai d t her e wer e r ul es about t hat sort of
t hi ng, and Cl ary coul dn’t shake t he f eeli ng t hat t he Sil ent Br ot hers mi ght fi nd it r at her r ude.
Jace sat besi de her i n t he back of t he t axi, hol di ng one of her hands and tr aci ng patt er ns on t he back of it wit h hi s
fi ngers. Thi s was di str acti ng, but not so di str acti ng t hat she coul dn’t concentr at e whil e he fill ed her i n on what had
been goi ng on wit h Si mon, t he st ory of Jor dan, t heir capt ur e of Ca mill e, and her de mand t o speak t o Magnus.
“ Si mon’ s all ri ght ?” she sai d worri edl y. “I di dn’t r eali ze. He was i n t he I nstit ut e, and I di dn’t even see hi m—”
“ He wasn’t i n t he I nstit ut e; he was i n t he Sanct uary. And he see ms t o be hol di ng hi s o wn. Bett er t han I woul d have
t hought f or so meone who was so r ecentl y a mundane.”
“ But t he pl an sounds danger ous. I mean Ca mill e, she’ s absol ut el y cr azy, i sn’t she?”
Jace tr aced hi s fi ngers over her knuckl es. “ You have t o st op t hi nki ng of Si mon as t he mundane boy you used t o
kno w. The one who r equir ed so much savi ng. He’ s al most beyond bei ng har med no w. You haven’t seen t hat Mark
you gave hi m i n acti on. I have. Li ke t he wr at h of God bei ng vi sit ed upon t he worl d. I suppose you shoul d be pr oud.”
She shi ver ed. “I don’t kno w. I di d it because I had t o do it, but it’ s still a curse. And I di dn’t kno w he was goi ng
t hr ough all t hi s. He di dn’t say. I kne w Isabell e and Mai a had f ound out about each ot her, but I di dn’t kno w about
Jor dan. That he was r eall y Mai a’ s ex, or —any of it.” Because you haven’t asked. You were too busy worrying
about Jace. Not good.
“ Well,” Jace sai d, “ have you been t elli ng hi m whyatou’ re u p t o? Because it has t o go bot h ways.”
“ No. I haven’t r eall y t ol d anyone,” Cl ary sai d, and fill ed Jace i n on her tri p t o t he Sil ent Cit y wit h Luke and Maryse,
what she had f ound at t he mor gue at Bet h Isr ael, and her subsequent di scovery of t he Church of Talt o.
“ Never hear d of it,” Jace sai d. “ But Isabell e’ s ri ght, t her e ar e all sort s of bi zarr o de mon- worshi ppi ng sect s out
t her e. Most of t he m never act uall y succeed i n su mmoni ng up a de mon. Sounds li ke t hi s one di d.”
“ Do you t hi nk t he de mon we kill ed was t he one t hey wer e worshi ppi ng? Do you t hi nk no w t hey mi ght —st op?”
Jace shook hi s head. “ That was j ust a Hydr a de mon, a sort of guar d dog. Besi des, ‘ Her house i ncli net h unt o
deat h, and her pat hs unt o t he dead.’ Sounds li ke a f e mal e de mon t o me. And it’ s t he cult s t hat worshi p f e mal e
de mons t hat oft en do horri bl e st uff wit h babi es. They have all sort s of t wi st ed i deas about f ertilit y and i nf ant s.” He
sat back agai nst t he seat, half-cl osi ng hi s eyes. “I’ m sur e t he Concl ave will go t o t he church and check it out, but
t went y t o one t hey don’t fi nd anyt hi ng. You kill ed t heir guar d de mon, so t he cult’ s goi ng t o cl ear out and dit ch t he
evi dence. We mi ght have t o wait until t hey set up shop agai n so me wher e el se.”
“ But —” Cl ary’ s st o mach cl enched. “ That baby. And t he pi ct ur esi n t he book I sa w. I t hi nk t hey’r e tryi ng t o make
mor e chil dr en li ke —li ke Sebasti an.”
“ They can’t,” sai d Jace. “ They shot up a hu man baby wit h de mon bl ood, whi ch i s pr ett y bad, yes. But you get
so met hi ng li ke Sebasti an onl y if what you’r e doi ng i s usi ng de mon bl ood on Shado whunt er chil dr en. I nst ead t he
baby di ed.” He squeezed her hand li ghtl y, as if f or r eassur ance. “ They’r e not ni ce peopl e, but I can’t i magi ne
t hey’ d try t he sa me t hi ng agai n, si nce it di dn’t work.”
The t axi ca me t o a scr eechi ng halt at t he cor ner of Houst on and Second Avenue. “ Met er’ s br oken,” sai d t he
cabbi e. “ Ten bucks.”
Jace, who under other circumstances would probably have made a sarcastic remark, tossed the cabbie a twenty
and got out of t he car, hol di ng t he door open f or Cl ary t o f oll o w. “ You r eady?” he asked as t hey headed t o war d t he
ir on gat e t hat l ed t o t he Cit y.
She nodded. “I can’t say my l ast tri p her e was much f un, but yes, I’ m r eady.” She t ook hi s hand. “ As l ong as we’r e
t oget her, I’ m r eady f or anyt hi ng.”
The Sil ent Br ot hers wer e waiti ng f or t he m i n t he entry way of t he Cit y, al most as if t hey had been expecti ng t he m.
Clary recognized Brother Zachariah among the group. They stood in a silent line, blocking Clary and Jace’s
f art her i ngr ess i nt o t he Cit y.
Why have you co me her e, daught er of Val enti ne and son of t he I nstit ut e? Cl ary wasn’t sur e whi ch of t he m was
speaki ng t o her i nsi de her head, or if all of t he m wer e. It i s unusual f or chil dr en t o ent er t he Sil ent Cit y
unsupervised.
The appell ati on “chil dr en” st ung, t hough Cl ary was a war e t hat as f ar as Shado whunt ers wer e concer ned, everyone
under ei ght een was a chil d and subj ect t o diff er ent r ul es.
“ We need your hel p,” Cl ary sai d when it beca me appar ent Jace wasn’t goi ng t o say anyt hi ng. He was l ooki ng fr o m
one of t he Sil ent Br ot hers t o t he ot her wit h a curi ous li stl essness, li ke so meone who had r ecei ved countl ess
t er mi nal di agnoses fr o m diff er ent doct ors and no w, havi ng r eached t he end of t he li ne, wait ed wit hout much hope
f or a speci ali st’ s ver di ct. “Isn’t t hat your j ob —hel pi ng Shado whunt ers?”
And yet we ar e not servant s, at your beck and call. Nor does every pr obl e m f all under our j uri sdi cti on .
“But this one does,” Clary said firmly. “I believe someone is reaching into Jace’s mind—someone with power—
and messi ng wit h hi s me mori es and dr ea ms. Maki ng hi m do t hi ngs he doesn’t want t o do.”
Hypno mancy, sai d one of t he Sil ent Br ot hers. The magi c of dr ea ms. That i s t he pr ovi nce of onl y t he gr eat est and
most po werf ul users of magi c.
“ Li ke angel s,” sai d Cl ary, and she was r e war ded by a stiff, sur pri sed sil ence.
Per haps, sai d Br ot her Zachari ah fi nall y, you shoul d co me wit h us t o t he Speaki ng St ars. Thi s was not an i nvit ati on,
cl earl y, but an or der, f or t hey t ur ned i mmedi at el y and began wal ki ng i nt o t he heart of t he Cit y, not waiti ng t o see if
Jace and Clary followed.
They r eached t he pavili on of t he Speaki ng St ars, wher e t he Br ot hers t ook t heir pl aces behi nd t heir bl ack basalt
t abl e. The Mort al Swor d was back i n it s pl ace, gl ea mi ng on t he wall behi nd t he m li ke t he wi ng of a sil ver bir d.
Jace moved t o t he cent er of t he r oo m and st ar ed do wn at t he patt er n of met alli c st ars bur ned i nt o t he r ed and gol d
til es of t he fl oor. Cl ary wat ched hi m, f eeli ng her heart ache. It was har d t o see hi m li ke t hi s, all hi s usual bur ni ng
ener gy gone, li ke wit chli ght suff ocati ng under a coveri ng of ash.
He r ai sed hi s bl ond head t hen, bli nki ng, and Cl ary kne w t hat t he Sil ent Br ot hers wer e speaki ng i nsi de hi s mi nd,
sayi ng wor ds she coul dn’t hear. She sa w hi m shake hi s head and hear d hi m say, “I don’t kno w. I t hought t hey
wer en’t anyt hi ng but or di nary dr ea ms.” Hi s mout h ti ght ened t hen, and she coul dn’t hel p wonderi ng what t hey wer e
aski ng hi m. “ Vi si ons? I don’t t hi nk so. Yes, I di d encount er t he Angel, but it’ s Cl ary who had t he pr opheti c dr ea ms.
Not me.”
Cl ary t ensed. They wer e getti ng a wf ull y cl ose t o aski ng about what had happened wit h Jace and t he Angel t hat
ni ght by Lake Lyn. She hadn’t t hought about t hat. When t he Sil ent Br ot hers pri ed i nt o your mi nd, j ust what di d t hey
see? Onl y what t hey wer e l ooki ng f or ? Or everyt hi ng?
Jace nodded t hen. “ Fi ne. I’ m r eady if you ar e.”
He cl osed hi s eyes, and Cl ary, wat chi ng, r el axed sli ghtl y. Thi s must have been what it had been li ke f or Jace t o
wat ch her, she t hought, t he first ti me t he Sil ent Br ot hers had del ved i nt o her mi nd. She sa w det ail s she hadn’t
noti ced t hen, f or she had been caught i nsi de t he net s of t heir mi nds and her o wn, r eeli ng back i nt o her me mori es,
l ost t o t he worl d.
She sa w Jace stiff en all over as if t hey had t ouched hi m wit h t heir hands. Hi s head went back. Hi s hands, at hi s
si des, opened and cl osed, as t he st ars on t he fl oor at hi s f eet fl ar ed up wit h a bli ndi ng sil ver li ght. She bli nked
a way t ears fr o m t he bri ght ness; he was a gr acef ul dark outli ne agai nst a sheet of bli ndi ng sil ver, as if he st ood i n
t he heart of a wat erf all. All ar ound t he m was noi se, a soft, i nco mpr ehensi bl e whi speri ng.
As she wat ched, he went t o hi s knees, hi s hands br aced agai nst t he gr ound. Her heart ti ght ened. Havi ng t he
Sil ent Br ot hers i n her head had nearl y made her f ai nt, but Jace was str onger t han t hat, wasn’t he? Sl o wl y he
doubl ed i n on hi mself, hands gri pped agai nst hi s st o mach, agony i n every li ne of hi m, t hough he never cri ed out.
Cl ary coul d t ake it no l onger —she dart ed t o war d hi m, t hr ough t he sheet s of li ght, and went on her knees next t o
hi m, t hr o wi ng her ar ms ar ound hi s body. The whi speri ng voi ces ar ound her r ose t o a st or m of pr ot est as he t ur ned
hi s head and l ooked at her. The sil ver li ght had washed out hi s eyes, and t hey l ooked fl at and as whit e as mar bl e
til es. Hi s li ps shaped her na me.
And t hen it was gone —t he li ght, t he sound, all of it, and t hey knelt t oget her on t he bar e fl oor of t he pavili on, sil ence
and shadow all around them. Jace was shaking, and when his hands released each other, she saw that they were
bl oody wher e hi s nail s had t or n t he ski n. Still hol di ng hi m by t he ar m, she l ooked up at t he Sil ent Br ot hers, fi ghti ng
back her anger. She kne w it was li ke bei ng f uri ous at a doct or who had t o ad mi ni st er a pai nf ul but lif esavi ng
tr eat ment, but it was har d —so har d —t o be r easonabl e when it was so meone t hat you l oved.
Ther e i s so met hi ng you have not t ol d us, Cl ari ssa Mor genst er n, sai d Br ot her Zachari ah. A secr et you bot h have
been keeping.
An i cy hand cl osed ar ound Cl ary’ s heart. “ What do you mean?”
The mark of deat h i s on t hi s boy. It was anot her of t he Br ot hers speaki ng —Enoch, she t hought.
“Death?” said Jace. “Do you mean I’m going to die?” He didn’t sound surprised.
We mean that you were dead. You had passed beyond the portal into the shadow realms, your soul untethered
fr o m your body.
Clary and Jace exchanged a look. She swallowed. “The Angel Raziel—,” she began.
Yes, hi s mark i s all over t he boy as well. Enoch’ s voi ce was wit hout e moti on. Ther e ar e onl y t wo ways t o bri ng
back t he dead. The way of necr o mancy, t he bl ack sorcery of bell, book, and candl e. That will r et ur n a se mbl ance
of lif e. But onl y an Angel of God’ s o wn ri ght hand coul d pl ace a hu man’ s soul back i nt o t heir body as easil y as lif e
was br eat hed i nt o t he first of men. He shook hi s head. The bal ance of lif e and deat h, of good and evil, i s a
deli cat e one, young Shado whunt ers. You have upset it.
“ But Razi el’ s t he Angel,” sai d Cl ary. “ He can do what ever he want s. You worshi p hi m, don’t you? If he chose t o do
this—”
Di d he? asked anot her of t he Br ot hers. Di d he choose?
“I . . .” Cl ary l ooked at Jace. She t hought, I could have asked for anything else in the universe. World peace, a cure
t o di sease, t o li ve f or ever. But all I want ed was you.
We kno w t he rit ual of t he I nstr u ment s, sai d Zachari ah. We kno w t hat he who possesses t he m all, who i s t heir Lor d,
may r equest of t he Angel one t hi ng. I do not t hi nk he coul d have r ef used you.
Cl ary set her chi n. “ Well,” she sai d, “it’ s done no w.”
Jace gave t he ghost of a l augh. “ They coul d al ways kill me, you kno w,” he sai d. “ Bri ng t hi ngs back i nt o bal ance.”
Her hands ti ght ened on hi s ar m. “ Don’t be ri di cul ous.” But her voi ce was t hi n. She t ensed f urt her as Br ot her
Zachari ah br oke a way fr o m t he ti ght gr oup of Sil ent Br ot hers and appr oached t he m, hi s f eet gli di ng sil entl y over
t he Speaki ng St ars. He r eached Jace, and Cl ary had t o fi ght t he ur ge t o push hi m a way as he bent do wn and
pl aced hi s l ong fi ngers under Jace’ s chi n, r ai si ng t he boy’ s f ace t o hi s. Zachari ah’ s fi ngers wer e sli m, unli ned —a
young man’ s fi ngers. She had never gi ven much t hought t o t he ages of t he Sil ent Br ot hers bef or e, assu mi ng t he m
to be all some species of wizened and old.
Jace, kneeli ng, gazed up at Zachari ah, who l ooked do wn at hi m wit h hi s bli nd, i mpassi ve expr essi on. Cl ary coul d
not hel p but t hi nk of medi eval pai nti ngs of sai nt s on t heir knees, gazi ng up war d, t heir f aces suff used wit h shi ni ng
gol den li ght. Woul d t hat I had been her e, he sai d, hi s voi ce unexpect edl y gentl e, when you wer e gr o wi ng up. I
woul d have seen t he tr ut h i n your f ace, Jace Li ght wood, and kno wn who you wer e .
Jace looked puzzled but didn’t move to pull away.
Zachari ah t ur ned t o t he ot hers. We cannot and shoul d not har m t he boy. Ol d ti es exi st bet ween t he Her ondal es
and t he Br ot hers. We o we hi m hel p.
“Help with what?” Clary demanded. “Can you see something wrong with him—something inside his head?”
When a Shado whunt er i s bor n, a rit ual i s perf or med, a nu mber of pr ot ecti ve spell s pl aced upon t he chil d by bot h
t he Sil ent Br ot hers and t he Ir on Si st ers.
The Ir on Si st ers, Cl ary kne w fr o m her st udi es, wer e t he si st er sect of t he Sil ent Br ot hers; even mor e r etiri ng t han
t heir br et hr en, t hey wer e i n char ge of cr afti ng Shado whunt er weapons.
Br ot her Zachari ah went on. When Jace di ed and t hen was r ai sed, he was bor n a second ti me, wit h t hose
pr ot ecti ons and rit ual s stri pped a way. It woul d have l eft hi m as open as an unl ocked door —open t o any ki nd of
demonic influence or malevolence.
Clary licked her dry lips. “Possession, you mean?”
Not possessi on. I nfl uence. I suspect t hat a po werf ul de moni c po wer whi spers i nt o your ears, Jonat han Her ondal e.
You ar e str ong, you fi ght it, but it wears you do wn as t he sea wears do wn t he sand.
“Jace,” he whispered through white lips. “Jace Lightwood, not Herondale.”
Cl ary, cli ngi ng t o pr acti caliti es, sai d, “ Ho w can you be sur e it’ s a de mon? And what can we do t o get it t o l eave
hi m alone?”
Enoch, soundi ng t houghtf ul, sai d, The rit ual must be perf or med agai n, t he pr ot ecti ons l ai d upon hi m a second
ti me, as if he had j ust been bor n.
“ Can you do it ?” Cl ary asked.
Zachari ah i ncli ned hi s head. It can be done. The pr epar ati ons must be made, one of t he Ir on Si st ers call ed on, an
a mul et cr aft ed. . . . He tr ail ed off. Jonat han must r e mai n wit h us until t he rit ual i s fi ni shed. Thi s i s t he saf est pl ace
f or hi m.
Clary looked at Jace again, searching for an expression—any expression—of hope, relief, delight, anything. But
hi s f ace was i mpassi ve. “ For ho w l ong?” he sai d.
Zachari ah spr ead hi s t hi n hands wi de. A day, per haps t wo. The rit ual i s meant f or i nf ant s; we will have t o change
it, alt er it t o fit an adult. If he wer e ol der t han ei ght een, it woul d be i mpossi bl e. As it i s, it will be diffi cult. But he i s
not beyond saving.
Not beyond savi ng. It was not what Cl ary had hoped f or; she had want ed t o be t ol d t hat t he pr obl e m was si mpl e,
easil y sol ved. She l ooked at Jace. Hi s head was bo wed, hi s hair f alli ng f or war d; t he back of hi s neck l ooked so
vul ner abl e t o her, it made her heart ache.
“It’ s fi ne,” she sai d softl y. “I’ll st ay her e wit h you —”
No. The Br ot hers spoke as a gr oup, t heir voi ces i nexor abl e. He must r e mai n her e al one. For what we must do, he
cannot aff or d t o be di str act ed.
She f elt Jace’ s body ti ght en. The l ast ti me he had been al one i n t he Sil ent Cit y, he had been unf airl y i mpri soned,
pr esent f or t he horri bl e deat hs of most of t he Sil ent Br ot hers, and t or ment ed by Val enti ne. She coul d not i magi ne
t hat t he i dea of anot her ni ght al one i n t he Cit y woul d be anyt hi ng but a wf ul f or hi m.
“Jace,” she whi sper ed. “I’ll do what ever you want me t o do. If you want t o go . . .”
“I’ll st ay,” he sai d. He had r ai sed hi s head, and hi s voi ce was str ong and cl ear. “I’ll st ay. I’ll do what ever I have t o do
t o fi x t hi s. I j ust need you t o call Izzy and Al ec. Tell t he m—t ell t he m I’ m st ayi ng at Si mon’ s t o keep an eye on hi m.
Tell t he m I’ll see t he m t o morr o w or t he next day.”
“ But . . .”
“ Cl ary.” Gentl y he t ook bot h her hands and hel d t he m bet ween hi s. “ You wer e ri ght. Thi s i sn’t co mi ng fr o m i nsi de
me. So met hi ng i s doi ng t hi s t o me. To us. You kno w what t hat means? If I can be . . . cur ed . . . t hen I don’t have t o
be afr ai d of myself when I’ m ar ound you any mor e. I’ d spend a t housand ni ght s i n t he Sil ent Cit y f or t hat.”
She l eaned f or war d, heedl ess of t he pr esence of t he Sil ent Br ot hers, and ki ssed hi m, a qui ck pr ess of her li ps
agai nst hi s. “I’ll be back,” she whi sper ed. “ To morr o w ni ght, aft er t he Ir onworks part y, I’ll co me back and see you.”
The hopef ul ness i n hi s eyes was enough t o br eak her heart. “ Maybe I’ll be cur ed by t hen.”
She t ouched hi s f ace wit h her fi ngerti ps. “ Maybe you will be.”
Si mon woke still f eeli ng exhaust ed aft er a l ong ni ght of bad dr ea ms. He r oll ed ont o hi s back and st ar ed at t he li ght
coming in the single window in his bedroom.
He coul dn’t hel p but wonder if he’ d sl eep bett er if he di d what ot her va mpir es di d, and sl ept duri ng t he day.
Despit e t he f act t hat t he sun di dn’t har m hi m, he coul d f eel t he pull of t he ni ght s, t he desir e t o be out under t he dark
sky and t he gli mmeri ng st ars. Ther e was so met hi ng i n hi m t hat want ed t o li ve i n shado ws, t hat f elt t he sunli ght li ke
a t hi n, knif eli ke pai n —j ust li ke t her e was so met hi ng i n hi m t hat want ed bl ood. And l ook ho w fi ghti ng t hat had
t ur ned out f or hi m.
He st agger ed upri ght and t hr e w on so me cl ot hes, t hen made hi s way out i nt o t he li vi ng r oo m. The pl ace s mell ed
li ke t oast and coff ee. Jor dan was sitti ng on one of t he count er st ool s, hi s hair sti cki ng out every whi ch way as
usual, his shoulders hunched.
“ Hey,” Si mon sai d. “ What’ s up?”
Jordan looked over at him. He was pale under his tan. “We have a problem,” he said.
Si mon bli nked. He hadn’t seen hi s wer e wolf r oo mmat e si nce t he day bef or e. He’ d co me ho me fr o m t he I nstit ut e
l ast ni ght and coll apsed i n exhausti on. Jor dan hadn’t been her e, and Si mon had fi gur ed he was out worki ng. But
maybe something had happened. “What’s wrong?”
“ Thi s was shoved under our door.” Jor dan pushed a f ol ded ne wspaper t o war d Si mon. It was t he Ne w York
Mor ni ng Chr oni cl e, f ol ded open t o one of t he pages. Ther e was a gri sl y pi ct ur e up t o war d t he t op, a gr ai ny i mage
of a body spr a wl ed on so me pave ment, sti ck-ski nny li mbs bent at odd angl es. It har dl y l ooked hu man, t he way
dead bodi es so meti mes di dn’t. Si mon was about t o ask Jor dan why he had t o l ook at t hi s, when t he t ext under t he
phot o j u mped out at hi m.
GI RL F OUND DEAD
Police say they are pursuing leads in the death of fourteen-year-old Maureen Brown, whose body was discovered
Sunday ni ght at el even p. m. st uff ed i nt o a tr ash can out si de t he Bi g Appl e Deli on Thir d Avenue. Though no offi ci al
cause of deat h has been r el eased by t he cor oner’ s offi ce, t he deli o wner who f ound t he body, Mi chael Garza, says
her t hr oat was cut open. Poli ce have not yet l ocat ed a weapon . . .
Unabl e t o r ead on, Si mon sat do wn heavil y i n a chair. No w t hat he kne w, t he phot o was un mi st akabl y Maur een. He
recognized her rainbow arm warmers, the stupid pink hat she’d been wearing when he’d seen her las t.My God,
he want ed t o say. Oh, God. But no wor ds ca me out.
“ Di dn’t t hat not e say,” Jor dan sai d i n a bl eak voi ce, “t hat if you di dn’t go t o t hat addr ess, t hey’ d cut your girlfri end’ s
t hr oat ?”
“ No,” Si mon whi sper ed. “It’ s not possi bl e. No.”
But he r e me mber ed.
Eri c’ s littl e cousi n’ s fri end. What’ s her na me? The one who has a cr ush on Si mon. She co mes t o all our gi gs and
t ell s everyone she’ s hi s girlfri end .
Si mon r e me mber ed her phone, her littl e pi nk phone wit h t he sti ckers on it, t he way she’ d hel d it up t o t ake a phot o
of t he m. The f eeli ng of her hand on hi s shoul der, as li ght as a butt erfl y. Fourt een years ol d. He curl ed i n on hi mself,
wr appi ng hi s ar ms ar ound hi s chest, as if he coul d make hi mself s mall enough t o vani sh co mpl et el y.
14
WHAT DREAMS MAY COME
Jace t ossed uneasil y on t he narr o w bed i n t he Sil ent Cit y. He di dn’t kno w wher e t he Br ot hers sl ept, and t hey
di dn’t see m i ncli ned t o r eveal it. The onl y pl ace t her e see med t o be f or hi m t o li e do wn was i n one of t he cell s
bel o w t he Cit y wher e t hey usuall y kept pri soners. They’ d l eft t he door open f or hi m so he di dn’t f eel t oo much li ke
he was i n j ail, but t he pl ace coul dn’t by any str et ch of t he i magi nati on be call ed pl easant.
The air was cl ose and t hi ck; he’ d t aken off hi s shirt and l ay at op t he covers i n j ust hi s j eans, but he was still t oo hot.
The wall s wer e dull gr ay. So meone had carved t he l ett ers J G i nt o t he st one j ust above t he bedst ead, l eavi ng hi m
t o wonder what t hat was about —and t her e was not hi ng el se i n t he r oo m but t he bed, a cr acked mirr or t hat gave
hi m back hi s o wn r efl ecti on i n t wi st ed pi eces, and t he si nk. Not t o menti on t he mor e t han unpl easant me mori es
t he r oo m stirr ed up.
The Br ot hers had been i n and out of hi s mi nd all ni ght, till he f elt li ke a wr ung- out r ag. Si nce t hey wer e so secr eti ve
about everyt hi ng, he had no i dea if t hey wer e maki ng any pr ogr ess. They di dn’t see m pl eased, but t hen, t hey
never did.
The real test, he knew, was sleeping. What would he dream? To sleep: perchance to dream. He flipped over,
buryi ng hi s f ace i n hi s ar ms. He di dn’t t hi nk he coul d st and even one mor e dr ea m about hurti ng Cl ary. He t hought
he mi ght act uall y l ose hi s mi nd, and t he i dea fri ght ened hi m. The pr ospect of dyi ng had never fri ght ened hi m
much, but t he t hought of goi ng i nsane was nearl y t he worst t hi ng he coul d i magi ne. But goi ng t o sl eep was t he onl y
way t o kno w. He cl osed hi s eyes and will ed hi mself t o sl eep.
He slept, and he dreamed.
He was back i n t he vall ey —t he vall ey i n I dri s wher e he had f ought Sebasti an and nearl y di ed. It was aut u mn i n t he
vall ey, not hi gh su mmer as it had been t he l ast ti me he had been t her e. The l eaves wer e expl odi ng i n gol d and
r usset and or ange and r ed. He was st andi ng by t he bank of t he s mall ri ver —a str ea m, r eall y —t hat cut t he vall ey i n
half. I n t he di st ance, co mi ng t o war d hi m, was so meone, so meone he coul dn’t see very cl earl y yet, but t he person’ s
stride was direct and purposeful.
He was so sur e it was Sebasti an t hat it was not until t he fi gur e had co me cl ose enough t o see cl earl y t hat he
r eali zed it coul dn’t possi bl y be. Sebasti an had been t all, t all er t han Jace, but t hi s person was s mall —t he f ace i n
shado w, but a head or t wo short er t han Jace —and ski nny, wit h t he t hi n shoul ders of chil dhood, and bony wri st s
sti cki ng out of t he t oo-short sl eeves of hi s shirt.
Max.
The si ght of hi s littl e br ot her hit Jace li ke a bl o w, and he went do wn on hi s knees on t he gr een gr ass. The f all di dn’t
hurt. Everything had the padded edges of the dream that it was. Max looked as he always had. A knobby-kneed
boy j ust on t he ver ge of gr o wi ng up and out of t hat littl e-ki d st age. No w he never woul d.
“ Max,” Jace sai d. “ Max, I’ m so sorry.”
“Jace.” Max st ood wher e he was. A littl e wi nd had co me up and lift ed hi s br o wn hair off hi s f ace. Hi s eyes, behi nd
t heir gl asses, wer e seri ous. “I’ m not her e because of me,” he sai d. “I’ m not her e t o haunt you or make you f eel
guilt y.”
Of course he i sn’t, said a voice in Jace’s head .Max has onl y ever l oved you, l ooked up t o you, t hought you wer e
wonderful .
“The dreams you’ve been having,” Max said. “They’re messages.”
“The dreams are a demon’s influence, Max. The Silent Brothers said—”
“ They’r e wr ong,” Max sai d qui ckl y. “ Ther e ar e onl y a f e w of t he m no w, and t heir po wers ar e weaker t han t hey used
t o be. These dr ea ms ar e meant t o t ell you so met hi ng. You’ ve been mi sunderst andi ng t he m. They’r e not t elli ng you
t o hurt Cl ary. They’r e war ni ng you t hat you alr eady ar e.”
Jace shook hi s head sl o wl y. “I don’t underst and.”
“ The angel s sent me t o t al k t o you because I kno w you,” Max sai d, i n hi s cl ear chil d’ s voi ce. “I kno w ho w you ar e
wit h t he peopl e you l ove, and you’ d never hurt t he m willi ngl y. But you haven’t destr oyed all of Val enti ne’ s i nfl uence
i nsi de you yet. Hi s voi ce still whi spers t o you, and you don’t t hi nk you hear it, but you do. The dr ea ms ar e t elli ng
you t hat until you kill t hat part of yourself, you can’t be wit h Cl ary.”
“ Then I’ll kill it,” Jace sai d. “I’ll do what ever I have t o do. Just t ell me ho w.”
Max smiled a clear bright smile and held out something in his hand. It was a silver-handled dagger—Stephen
Her ondal e’ s sil ver- handl ed dagger, t he one fr o m t he box. Jace r ecogni zed it at once. “ Take t hi s,” Max sai d. “ And
t ur n it agai nst yourself. The part of you t hat i s her e i n t he dr ea m wit h me must di e. What will ri se up aft er war d will
be cleansed.”
Jace t ook t he knif e.
Max s mil ed. “ Good. Ther e ar e many of us her e on t he ot her si de who ar e worri ed about you. Your f at her i s her e.”
“Not Valentine—”
“ Your r eal f at her. He t ol d me t o t ell you t o use t hi s. It will cut a way everyt hi ng r ott en i n your soul.”
Max s mil ed li ke an angel as Jace t ur ned t he knif e t o war d hi mself, bl ade i nwar d. Then at t he l ast mo ment Jace
hesit at ed. It was t oo cl ose t o what Val enti ne had done t o hi m, pi erci ng hi m t hr ough t he heart. He t ook t he bl ade
and cut a l ong i nci si on i nt o hi s ri ght f or ear m, fr o m el bo w t o wri st. Ther e was no pai n. He s wit ched t he knif e t o t he
ri ght hand and di d t he sa me t o hi s ot her ar m. Bl ood expl oded fr o m t he l ong cut s on hi s ar ms, bri ght er r ed t han
bl ood i n r eal lif e, bl ood t he col or of r ubi es. It spill ed do wn hi s ski n and patt er ed ont o t he gr ass.
He hear d Max br eat he out softl y. The boy bent do wn and t ouched t he fi ngers of hi s ri ght hand t o t he bl ood. When
he r ai sed t he m, t hey wer e glitt eri ng scarl et. He t ook a st ep t o war d Jace, and t hen anot her. Thi s cl ose up, Jace
could see Max’s face clearly—his poreless child’s skin, the translucence of his eyelids, his eyes—Jace didn’t
r e me mber hi m havi ng such dark eyes. Max put hi s hand t o t he ski n of Jace’ s chest, j ust over hi s heart, and wit h
t he bl ood he began t o tr ace a desi gn t her e, a r une. Not one Jace had ever seen bef or e, wit h overl appi ng cor ners
and strange angles to its shape.
Done, Max dr opped hi s hand and st epped back, head cocked t o t he si de, an arti st exa mi ni ng hi s l at est work. A
sudden spear of agony went t hr ough Jace. It f elt as if t he ski n on hi s chest wer e bur ni ng. Max st ood wat chi ng hi m,
s mili ng, fl exi ng hi s bl oody hand. “ Does it hurt you, Jace Li ght wood?” he sai d, and hi s voi ce was no l onger Max’ s
voi ce, but so met hi ng el se, hi gh and husky and f a mili ar.
“Max—,” Jace whispered.
“As you have dealt pain, so shall you be dealt pain,” said Max, whose face had begun to shimmer and change.
“ As you have caused gri ef, so shall you f eel gri ef. You ar e mi ne no w, Jace Li ght wood. You ar e mi ne.”
The agony was bli ndi ng. Jace cr u mpl ed f or war d, hands cl a wi ng at hi s chest, and he t u mbl ed i nt o darkness.
Si mon sat on t he couch, hi s f ace i n hi s hands. Hi s mi nd was buzzi ng. “ Thi s i s my f ault,” he sai d. “I mi ght as well
have killed Maureen when I drank her blood. She’s dead because of me.”
Jordan sprawled in the armchair opposite him. He was wearing jeans and a green tee over a long-sleeved
t her mal shirt wit h hol es i n t he cuff s; he had hi s t hu mbs st uck t hr ough t he m, and was worryi ng at t he mat eri al. The
gold Praetor Lupus medal around his neck glinted. “Come on,” he said. “There’s no way you could have known.
She was fi ne when I put her i n t he cab. These guys must have gr abbed her and kill ed her l at er.”
Si mon f elt li ght- headed. “ But I bit her. She’ s not goi ng t o co me back, ri ght ? She’ s not goi ng t o be a va mpir e?”
“ No. Co me on, you kno w t hi s st uff as well as I do. You’ d have t o have gi ven her so me of your bl ood f or her t o
beco me a va mpir e. If she’ d dr u nykour bl ood and t hen di ed, yeah, we’ d be out i n t he gr aveyar d on st ake wat ch.
But she di dn’t. I mean, I assu me you’ d r e me mber so met hi ng li ke t hat.”
Si mon t ast ed sour bl ood i n t he back of hi s t hr oat. “ They t hought she was my girlfri end,” he sai d. “ They war ned me
t hey’ d kill her if I di dn’t sho w up, and when I di dn’t co me, t hey cut her t hr oat. She must have wait ed t her e all day,
wonderi ng if I’ d co me. Hopi ng I’ d sho w up . . .” Hi s st o mach r evolt ed, and he bent over, br eat hi ng har d, tryi ng t o
keep from gagging.
“ Yeah,” sai d Jor dan, “ but t he questi on i s, who i s t hey ?” He gave Si mon a har d l ook. “I t hi nk it mi ght be ti me f or you
t o call t he I nstit ut e. I don’t l ove t he Shado whunt ers, but I’ ve al ways hear d t heir archi ves ar e i ncr edi bl y t hor ough.
Maybe t hey’ ve got so met hi ng on t hat addr ess fr o m t he not e.”
Simon hesitated.
“ Co me on,” Jor dan sai d. “ You do enough cr ap f or t he m. Let t he m do so met hi ng f or you.”
Wit h a shr ug Si mon went t o get hi s phone. Headi ng back t o t he li vi ng r oo m, he di al ed Jace’ s nu mber. Isabell e
picked up on the second ring. “You again?”
“ Sorry,” Si mon sai d a wk war dl y. Appar entl y t heir littl e i nt erl ude i n t he Sanct uary hadn’t soft ened her t o war d hi m as
much as he had hoped. “I was l ooki ng f or Jace, but I guess I can t al k t o you —”
“ Char mi ng as al ways,” sai d Isabell e. “I t hought Jace was wit h you.”
“ No.” Si mon f elt a stirri ng of unease. “ Who t ol d you t hat ?”
“Clary,” Isabelle said. “Maybe they’re sneaking some time together or something.” She sounded unworried, which
made sense; t he l ast person who’ d li e about Jace’ s wher eabout s if he was i n any sort of tr oubl e was Cl ary.
“ Any way, Jace l eft hi s phone i n hi s r oo m. If you do see hi m, r e mi nd hi m he’ s supposed t o be at t he part y at t he
Ir onworks t oni ght. If he doesn’t sho w, Cl ary will kill hi m.”
Si mon had nearl y f or gott en t hat he was supposed t o be at t he part y t hat ni ght.
“Right,” he said. “Look, Isabelle. I’ve got a problem here.”
“ Spill. I l ove pr obl e ms.”
“I don’t kno w if you’r e goi ng t o l ove t hi s one,” he sai d dubi ousl y, and fill ed her i n qui ckl y on t he sit uati on. She gave
a littl e gasp when he got t o t he part wher e he’ d bitt en Maur een, and he f elt hi s t hr oat ti ght en.
“Simon,” she whispered.
“I kno w, I kno w,” he sai d wr et chedl y. “ You t hi nk I’ m not sorry? I’ m beyond sorry.”
“If you’ d kill ed her, you’ d have br oken t he La w. You’ d be an outl a w. I’ d have t o k ilylou .”
“ But I di dn’t,” he sai d, hi s voi ce shaki ng a littl e. “I di dn’t do t hi s. Jor dan s wears t hat she was fi ne when he put her
i nt o t he cab. And t he ne wspaper says her t hr oat was cut. I di dn’t do t hat. So meone di d it t o get t o me. I j ust don’t
know why.”
“ We’r e not done wit h t hi s i ssue.” Her voi ce was st er n. “ But first go get t he not e t hey l eft. Read it out t o me.”
Simon did as asked, and was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath on Isabelle’s part.
“I t hought t hat addr ess sounded f a mili ar,” she sai d. “ That’ s wher e Cl ary t ol d me t o meet her yest er day. It’ s a
church, upt o wn. The headquart ers of so me sort of de mon- worshi ppi ng cult.”
“ What woul d a de mon- worshi ppi ng cult want wit h me?” Si mon sai d, and r ecei ved a curi ous l ook fr o m Jor dan, who
was only hearing half the conversation.
“I don’t kno w. You’r e a Dayli ght er. You’ ve got cr azy po wers. You’r e goi ng t o be a t ar get f or l unati cs and bl ack
magi ci ans. That’ s j ust ho w it i s.” Isabell e, Si mon f elt, coul d have sounded a bit mor e sy mpat heti c. “ Look, you’r e
goi ng t o t he Ir onworks part y, ri ght ? We can meet t her e and t al k next st eps. And I’ll t ell my mo m about what’ s been
goi ng on wit h you. They’r e alr eady i nvesti gati ng t he Church of Talt o, so t hey can add t hat t o t he i nf o pil e.”
“I guess,” Si mon sai d. The l ast t hi ng i n t he worl d he f elt li ke was goi ng t o a part y.
“And bring Jordan with you,” Isabelle said. “You can use a bodyguard.”
“I can’t do t hat. Mai a’ s goi ng t o be t her e.”
“I’ll t al k t o her,” Isabell e sai d. She sounded a l ot mor e confi dent t han Si mon woul d have f elt i n her pl ace. “ See you
t her e.”
She cli cked off. Si mon t ur ned t o Jor dan, who was l yi ng do wn acr oss t he f ut on, hi s head pr opped agai nst one of
t he woven t hr o w pill o ws. “ Ho w much of t hat di d you hear ?”
“ Enough t o gat her t hat we’r e goi ng t o a part y t oni ght,” sai d Jor dan. “I hear d about t he Ir onworks event. I’ m not i n
t he Garr o way pack, so I wasn’t i nvit ed.”
“I guess you’r e co mi ng as my dat e no w.” Si mon shoved t he phone back i nt o hi s pocket.
“I’ m secur e enough i n my masculi nit y t o accept t hat,” sai d Jor dan. “ We’ d bett er get you so met hi ng ni ce t o wear,
t hough,” he call ed as Si mon headed back i nt o hi s r oo m. “I want you t o l ook pr ett y.”
* * *
Years pr evi ousl y, when Long Isl and Cit y had been a cent er of i ndustry i nst ead of a tr endy nei ghbor hood f ull of art
gall eri es and coff ee shops, t he Ir onworks was a t extil e f act ory. No w it was an enor mous bri ck shell whose i nsi de
had been transformed into a spare but beautiful space. The floor was made up of overlapping squares of brushed
st eel; sl ender st eel bea ms arced over head, wr apped wit h r opes of ti ny whit e li ght s. Or nat e wr ought ir on
staircases spiraled up to catwalks decorated with hanging plants. A massive cantilevered glass ceiling opened
ont o a vi e w of t he ni ght sky. Ther e was even a t err ace out si de, built out over t he East Ri ver, wit h a spect acul ar
vi e w of t he Fift y- Ni nt h Str eet Bri dge, whi ch l oo med over head, str et chi ng fr o m Queens t o Manhatt an li ke a spear of
tinseled ice.
Luke’s pack had outdone themselves making the place look nice. There were artfully placed huge pewter vases
holding long-stemmed ivory flowers, and tables covered in white linen arranged in a circle around a raised stage
on whi ch a wer e wolf stri ng quart et pr ovi ded cl assi cal musi c. Cl ary coul dn’t hel p wi shi ng Si mon wer e t her e; she
was pr ett y sur e he’ d t hi nk Wer e wolf Stri ng Quart et was a good na me f or a band.
Cl ary wander ed fr o m t abl e t o t abl e, arr angi ng t hi ngs t hat di dn’t need arr angi ng, fi ddli ng wit h fl o wers and
str ai ght eni ng sil ver war e t hat wasn’t act uall y cr ooked. Onl y a f e w of t he guest s had arri ved so f ar, and none of t he m
were people she knew. Her mother and Luke stood near the door, greeting people and smiling, Luke looking
unco mf ort abl e i n a suit, and Jocel yn r adi ant i n a t ail or ed bl ue dr ess. Aft er t he event s of t he past f e w days, it was
good t o see her mot her l ooki ng happy, t hough Cl ary wonder ed ho w much of it was r eal and ho w much was f or
sho w. Ther e was a cert ai n ti ght ness about Jocel yn’ s mout h t hat made Cl ary worry —was she act uall y happy, or j ust
smiling through the pain?
Not t hat Cl ary di dn’t kno w ho w she f elt. What ever el se was goi ng on, she coul dn’t put Jace out of her mi nd. What
wer e t he Sil ent Br ot hers doi ng t o hi m? Was he all ri ght ? Wer e t hey goi ng t o be abl e t o fi x what was wr ong wit h
hi m, t o bl ock out t he de mon i nfl uence? She had spent a sl eepl ess ni ght t he eveni ng bef or e st ari ng i nt o t he
darkness of her bedr oo m and worryi ng until she f elt lit er all y si ck.
Mor e t han anyt hi ng el se, she wi shed he was her e. She had pi cked out t he dr ess she was weari ng t oni ght —pal e
gol d and mor e fitt ed t o her body t han anyt hi ng she usuall y wor e —wit h t he expr ess hope t hat Jace woul d li ke it;
no w he wasn’t goi ng t o see her i n it. That was a shall o w t hi ng t o worry about, she kne w; she’ d go ar ound dr essed
i n a barr el f or t he r est of her lif e if it meant Jace woul d get bett er. Besi des, he was al ways t elli ng her she was
beautif ul, and he never co mpl ai ned about t he f act t hat she mostl y wor e j eans and sneakers, but she had t hought
he woul d li ke t hi s.
St andi ng i n fr ont of her mirr or t oni ght, she had al most f elt beautif ul. Her mot her had al ways sai d t hat she herself
had been a l at e bl oo mer, and Cl ary, l ooki ng at her o wn r efl ecti on, had wonder ed if t he sa me t hi ng mi ght happen
t o her. She wasn’t fl at as a boar d any mor e —she’ d had t o go up a br a si ze t hi s past year —and if she squi nt ed,
she t hought she coul d see —yes, t hose wer e defi nit el y hi ps. She had curves. S mall ones, but you had t o st art
somewhere.
She’d kept her jewelry simple—very simple.
She put her hand up and t ouched t he Mor genst er n ri ng on it s chai n ar ound her t hr oat. She had put it on agai n, f or
t he first ti me i n days, t hat mor ni ng. She f elt as if it wer e a sil ent gest ur e of confi dence i n Jace, a way of si gnali ng
her l oyalt y, whet her he kne w about it or not. She had deci ded she woul d wear it until she sa w hi m agai n.
“Clarissa Morgenstern?” said a soft voice at her shoulder.
Cl ary t ur ned i n sur pri se. The voi ce wasn’t f a mili ar. St andi ng t her e was a sli m t all girl who l ooked about t went y. Her
ski n was mil k- pal e, t hr eaded wit h vei ns t he cl ear gr een of sap, and her bl ond hair had t he sa me gr eeni sh ti nt. Her
eyes wer e soli d bl ue, li ke mar bl es, and she wor e a sli p of a bl ue dr ess, so t hi n t hat Cl ary t hought she had t o be
fr eezi ng. Me mory s wa m up sl o wl y fr o m t he dept hs.
“Kaelie,” Clary said slowly, recognizing the faerie waitress from Taki’s who had served her and the Lightwoods
mor e t han once. A fli cker r e mi nded her t hat t her e had been so me i nti mati on t hat Kaeli e and Jace had once had a
fli ng, but t he f act see med so mi nor i n t he f ace of everyt hi ng el se t hat she coul dn’t bri ng herself t o mi nd it. “I di dn’t
realize—do you know Luke?”
“ Do not mi st ake me f or a guest at t hi s occasi on,” sai d Kaeli e, her t hi n hand tr aci ng a casuall y i ndiff er ent gest ur e
on t he air. “ My l ady sent me her e t o fi nd you —not t o att end t he f esti viti es.” She gl anced curi ousl y over her
shoul der, her all- bl ue eyes shi ni ng. “ Though I had not r eali zed t hat your mot her was marryi ng a wer e wolf.”
Clary raised her eyebrows. “And?”
Kaeli e l ooked her up and do wn wit h so me a muse ment. “ My l ady sai d you wer e quit e fli nt y, despit e your s mall si ze.
I n t he Court you woul d be l ooked do wn on f or havi ng such short st at ur e.”
“ We’r e not i n t he Court,” sai d Cl ary. “ And we’r e not iTnak i’s, which means you ca me t o me, whi ch means you
have fi ve seconds t o t ell me what t he Seeli e Queen want s. I don’t li ke her much, and I’ m not i n t he mood f or her
games.”
Kaeli e poi nt ed a t hi n gr een- nail ed fi nger at Cl ary’ s t hr oat. “ My l ady sai d t o ask you,” she sai d, “ why you wear t he
Mor genst er n ri ng. Is it t o ackno wl edge your f at her ?”
Cl ary’ s hand st ol e t o her t hr oat. “It’ s f or Jace —because Jace gave it t o me,” she sai d bef or e she coul d hel p
herself, and t hen cursed herself qui etl y. It wasn’t s mart t o t ell t he Seeli e Queen mor e t han you had t o.
“ But he i s not a Mor genst er n,” sai d Kaeli e, “ but a Her ondal e, and t hey have t heir o wn ri ng. A patt er n of her ons,
r at her t han mor ni ng st ars. And does t hat not suit hi m bett er, a soul t hat soars li ke a bir d i n fli ght, r at her t han f alli ng
like Lucifer?”
“ Kaeli e,” Cl ary gr ound out bet ween her t eet h. “ What does t he Seeli e Queen want ?”
The f aeri e girl l aughed. “ Why,” she sai d, “ onl y t o gi ve you t hi s.” She hel d out so met hi ng i n her hand, a ti ny sil ver
bell pendant, wit h a l oop at t he end of t he handl e so t hat it coul d be str ung on a chai n. As Kaeli e moved her hand
f or war d, t he bell chi med, li ght and as s weet as r ai n.
Cl ary shr ank back. “I do not want t he gift s of your l ady,” she sai d, “f or t hey co me fr ei ght ed wit h li es and
expect ati ons. I will not o we t he Queen anyt hi ng.”
“It i s not a gift,” Kaeli e sai d i mpati entl y. “It i s a means of su mmoni ng. The Queen f or gi ves you f or your earli er
st ubbor nness. She expect s t her e i s a ti me soon i n whi ch you will want her hel p. She i s willi ng t o off er it t o you,
shoul d you choose t o ask. Si mpl y ri ng t hat bell, and a servant of t he Court will co me and bri ng you t o her.”
Cl ary shook her head. “I will not ri ng it.”
Kaeli e shr ugged. “ Then it shoul d cost you not hi ng t o t ake it.”
As if i n a dr ea m Cl ary sa w her o wn hand r each out, her fi ngers hover over t he bell.
“ You woul d do anyt hi ng t o save hi m,” sai d Kaeli e, her voi ce t hi n and as s weet as t he bell’ s ri ng, “ what ever it cost
you, what ever you mi ght o we t o Hell or Heaven, woul d you not ?”
Remembered voices chimed in Clary’s head .Di d you ever st op t o wonder what untr ut hs mi ght have been i n t he
t al e your mot her t ol d you, t hat served her pur pose i n t elli ng it ? Do you tr ul y t hi nk you kno w each and every secr et of
your past ?
Mada me Dor ot hea t ol d Jace he woul d f all i n l ove wit h t he wr ong person.
He i s not beyond savi ng. But it will be diffi cult.
The bell cl anged as Cl ary t ook it, f ol di ng it i nt o her pal m. Kaeli e s mil ed, her bl ue eyes shi ni ng li ke gl ass beads. “ A
wise choice.”
Cl ary hesit at ed. But bef or e she coul d t hr ust t he bell back at t he f aeri e girl, she hear d so meone call her na me, and
t ur ned t o see her mot her maki ng her way t hr ough t he cr o wd t o war d her. She t ur ned back hastil y, but was not
sur pri sed t o see t hat Kaeli e was gone, havi ng melt ed a way i nt o t he cr o wd li ke mi st bur ni ng a way i n t he mor ni ng
sun.
“ Cl ary,” Jocel yn sai d, r eachi ng her, “I was l ooki ng f or you, and t hen Luke poi nt ed you out, j ust st andi ng over her e
by yourself. Is everyt hi ng okay?”
Just standing over here by yourself. Clary wondered what kind of glamour Kaelie had been using; her mother
ought t o be abl e t o see t hr ough most. “I’ m fi ne, Mo m.”
“ Wher e’ s Si mon? I t hought he was co mi ng.”
Of course she woul d t hi nk of Si mon first, Cl ary t hought, not Jace. Even t hough Jace had been supposed t o co me,
and as Clary’s boyfriend, he probably ought to even have been there early. “Mom,” she said, and then paused.
“ Do you t hi nk you’ll ever li ke Jace?”
Jocelyn’s green eyes softened. “Idi d noti ce he wasn’t her e, Cl ary. I j ust di dn’t kno w if you’ d want t o t al k about it.”
“I mean,” Cl ary went on doggedl y, “ do you t hi nk t her e’ s so met hi ng he coul d do t o makyeo u like hi m?”
“ Yes,” Jocel yn sai d. “ He coul d make you happy.” She t ouched Cl ary’ s f ace li ghtl y, and Cl ary cl enched her o wn
hand, f eeli ng t he bell pr ess i nt o her ski n.
“ He does make me happy,” Cl ary sai d. “ But he can’t contr ol everyt hi ng i n t he worl d, Mo m. Ot her t hi ngs happen —”
She f u mbl ed f or wor ds. Ho w coul d she expl ai n t hat it wasn’t Jace maki ng her unhappy, but what was happeni ng t o
hi m, wit hout r eveali ng what t hat was?
“ You l ove hi m so much,” Jocel yn sai d gentl y. “It scar es me. I’ ve al ways want ed t o keep you pr ot ect ed.”
“ And l ook ho w t hat worked out,” Cl ary began, and t hen soft ened her voi ce. Thi s wasn’t t he ti me t o bl a me her
mot her or fi ght wit h her, not no w. Not wit h Luke l ooki ng over at t he m fr o m t he door way, hi s f ace ali ght wit h l ove and
anxi et y. “If you j ust kne w hi m,” she sai d, a littl e hopel essl y. “ But I guess everyone says t hat about t heir boyfri end.”
“ You’r e ri ght,” Jocel yn sai d, sur pri si ng her. “I don’t kno w hi m, not r eall y. I see hi m, and he r e mi nds me a littl e of hi s
mot her so meho w. I don’t kno w why —he doesn’t l ook li ke her, except t hat she was al so beautif ul, and she had t hat
t erri bl e vul ner abilit y t hat he has —”
“ Vul ner abilit y?” Cl ary was ast oni shed. She had never t hought anyone but herself t hought of Jace as vul ner abl e.
“ Oh, yes,” sai d Jocel yn. “I want ed t o hat e her f or t aki ng St ephen a way fr o m A mati s, but you j ust coul dn’t hel p
wanti ng t o pr ot ect Céli ne. Jace has a littl e of t hat.” She sounded l ost i n t hought. “ Or maybe it’ s j ust t hat beautif ul
t hi ngs ar e so easil y br oken by t he worl d.” She l o wer ed her hand. “It doesn’t matt er. I have my me mori es t o cont end
wit h, but t hey’ rmey me mori es. Jace shoul dn’t bear t he wei ght of t he m. I will t ell you one t hi ng, t hough. If he di dn’t
l ove you li ke he does —and it’ s writt en all over hi s f ace whenever he l ooks at you —I woul dn’t t ol er at e hi m f or even
a mo ment. So keep t hat i n mi nd when you’r e bei ng angry wit h me.”
She waved off Cl ary’ s pr ot est ati on t hat she wasn’t angry wit h a s mil e and a pat on t he cheek, and headed back
t o war d Luke wit h a l ast appeal f or Cl ary t o get out a mong t he cr o wd and mi ngl e. Cl ary nodded and sai d not hi ng,
l ooki ng aft er her mot her as she went, and f eeli ng t he bell sear agai nst t he i nsi de of her hand wher e she cl ut ched it,
li ke t he ti p of a bur ni ng mat ch.
The area around the Ironworks was mostly warehouses and art galleries, the kind of neighborhood that emptied
out at ni ght, so it di dn’t t ake t oo l ong f or Jor dan and Si mon t o fi nd a parki ng space. Si mon j u mped do wn out of t he
tr uck, onl y t o fi nd Jor dan alr eady on t he si de wal k, l ooki ng at hi m criti call y.
Si mon hadn’t packed any ni ce cl ot hes when he’ d l eft hi s house —he di dn’t have anyt hi ng on hi m f anci er t han a
bomber jacket that had once belonged to his dad—so he and Jordan had spent the afternoon prowling the East
Village for a decento utfit f or hi m t o wear. They’ d fi nall y f ound an ol d Zegna suit i n a consi gn ment shop call ed Love
Saves t he Day t hat mostl y sol d glitt er pl atf or m boot s and si xti es Pucci scarves. Si mon suspect ed it was wher e
Magnus got most of hi s cl ot hes.
“ What ?” he sai d no w, self-consci ousl y pulli ng do wn t he sl eeves of hi s suit j acket. It was a littl e t oo s mall f or hi m,
t hough Jor dan had opi ned t hat if he never butt oned it, no one woul d noti ce. “ Ho w bad do I l ook?”
Jor dan shr ugged. “ You won’t cr ack any mirr ors,” he sai d. “I was j ust wonderi ng if you wer e ar med. You want
anyt hi ng? Dagger, maybe?” He opened hi s o wn suit j acket j ust a bit, and Si mon sa w so met hi ng l ong and met alli c
glinting against the inside lining.
“ No wonder you and Jace li ke each ot her so much. You’r e bot h cr azy wal ki ng arsenal s.” Si mon shook hi s head i n
weariness and turned to head toward the Ironworks entrance. It was across the street, a wide gold awning
shadowing a rectangle of sidewalk that had been decorated with a dark red carpet with the gold image of a wolf
st a mped i nt o it. Si mon coul dn’t hel p bei ng sli ghtl y a mused.
Leaning against one of the poles holding up the awning was Isabelle. She had her hair up and was wearing a long
r ed dr ess, slit up t he si de t o sho w most of her l eg. Loops of gol d l adder ed her ri ght ar m. They l ooked li ke
br acel et s, but Si mon kne w t hey wer e r eall y her el ectr u m whi p. She was cover ed i n Marks. They t wi ned her ar ms,
t hr eaded t heir way up her t hi gh, neckl aced her t hr oat, and decor at ed her chest, a gr eat deal of whi ch was vi si bl e,
t hanks t o t he pl ungi ng neckli ne of her dr ess. Si mon tri ed not t o st ar e.
“Hey, Isabelle,” he said.
Besi de hi m Jor dan was al so tryi ng not t o st ar e. “ Um,” he sai d. “ Hi. I’ m Jor dan.”
“ We met,” Isabell e sai d col dl y, i gnori ng hi s pr off er ed hand. “ Mai a was tryi ng t o ri p your f ace off. Quit e ri ghtl y, t oo.”
Jordan looked worried. “Is she here? Is she okay?”
“ She’ s her e,” sai d Isabell e. “ Not t hat ho w she f eel s i s any of your busi ness . . .”
“I f eel a sense of r esponsi bilit y,” sai d Jor dan.
“And where is this feeling located? In your pants, perhaps?”
Jordan looked indignant.
Isabell e waved a sli m decor at ed hand. “ Look, what ever you di d i n t he past, it’ s past. I kno w you’r e Pr aet or Lupus
no w, and I t ol d Mai a what t hat means. She’ s willi ng t o accept t hat you’r e her e and i gnor e you. But t hat’ s all you get.
Don’t bot her her, don’t try t o t al k t o her, don’t even l ook at her, or I’ll f ol d you i n half so many ti mes you’ll l ook li ke a
ti ny littl e ori ga mi wer e wolf.”
Simon snorted.
“ Laugh a way.” Isabell e poi nt ed at hi m. “ She doesn’t want t o t al k t o you, eit her. So despit e t he f act t hat she l ooks
t ot all y babeli ci ous t oni ght —and if I wer e i nt o chi cks I woul d co mpl et el y go f or her —neit her of you ar e all o wed t o
t al k t o her. Got it ?”
They nodded, looking at their shoes like middle schoolers who’d just been handed detention slips.
Isabell e unpeel ed herself fr o m t he pol e. “ Gr eat. Let’ s go on i n.”
15
BEATI BELLI COSI
The i nsi de of t he Ir on wor ks was ali ve wit h r opes of shi mmeri ng multi col or ed li ght s. Quit e a f e w guest s wer e
alr eady sitti ng, but j ust as many wer e milli ng ar ound, carryi ng cha mpagne gl asses f ull of pal e, fi zzi ng li qui d.
Wait ers —who wer e al so wer e wol ves, Si mon not ed; t he whol e event see med t o be st aff ed by me mbers of Luke’ s
pack—moved among the guests, handing out champagne flutes. Simon declined one. Ever since his experience
at Magnus’ s part y, he hadn’t f elt saf e dri nki ng anyt hi ng t hat he hadn’t pr epar ed hi mself, and besi des, he never
knew which non-blood liquids were going to stay down and which would make him sick.
Mai a was st andi ng over by one of t he bri ck pill ars, t al ki ng t o t wo ot her wer e wol ves and l aughi ng. She wor e a
brilli ant or ange sati n sheat h dr ess t hat set off her dark ski n, and her hair was a wil d hal o of br o wn- gol d curl s
around her face. She caught sight of Simon and Jordan and deliberately turned away. The back of her dress was
a l o w V t hat sho wed a l ot of bar e ski n, i ncl udi ng a t att oo of a butt erfl y acr oss her l o wer spi ne.
“I don’t t hi nk she had t hat when I kne w her,” Jor dan sai d. “ That t att oo, I mean.”
Si mon l ooked at Jor dan. He was goggli ng at hi s ex- girlfri end wit h t he sort of obvi ous l ongi ng t hat, Si mon
suspect ed, was goi ng t o get hi m punched i n t he f ace by Isabell e if he wasn’t car ef ul. “ Co me on,” he sai d, putti ng
hi s hand agai nst Jor dan’ s back and shovi ng li ghtl y. “ Let’ s go see wher e we’r e sitti ng.”
Isabell e, who had been wat chi ng t he m over her shoul der, s mil ed a catli ke s mil e. “ Good i dea.”
They made t heir way t hr ough t he cr o wd t o t he ar ea wher e t he t abl es wer e, onl y t o fi nd t hat t heir t abl e was alr eady
half- occupi ed. Cl ary sat i n one of t he seat s, l ooki ng do wn i nt o a cha mpagne gl ass f ull of what was most li kel y
gi nger al e. Next t o her wer e Al ec and Magnus, bot h i n t he dark suit s t hey’ d wor n when t hey’ d co me fr o m Vi enna.
Magnus see med t o be pl ayi ng wit h t he fri nged edges of hi s l ong whit e scarf. Al ec, hi s ar ms cr ossed over hi s
chest, was st ari ng f er oci ousl y i nt o t he di st ance.
Cl ary, on seei ng Si mon and Jor dan, bounced t o her f eet, r eli ef evi dent on her f ace. She ca me ar ound t he t abl e t o
gr eet Si mon, and he sa w t hat she was weari ng a very pl ai n gol d sil k dr ess and l o w gol d sandal s. Wit hout heel s t o
gi ve her hei ght, she l ooked ti ny. The Mor genst er n ri ng was ar ound her neck, it s sil ver gli nti ng agai nst t he chai n
t hat hel d it. She r eached up t o hug hi m and mutt er ed, “I t hi nk Al ec and Magnus ar e fi ghti ng.”
“ Looks li ke it,” he mutt er ed back. “ Wher e’ s your boyfri end?”
At t hat, she det ached her ar ms fr o m hi s neck. “ He got hel d up at t he I nstit ut e.” She t ur ned. “ Hey, Kyl e.”
He s mil ed a littl e a wk war dl y. “It’ s Jor dan, act uall y.”
“ So I’ ve hear d.” Cl ary gest ur ed t o war d t he t abl e. “ Well, we mi ght as well sit. I t hi nk pr ett y soon t her e’ s goi ng t o be
t oasti ng and st uff. And t hen, hopef ull y, f ood.”
They all sat. Ther e was a l ong, a wk war d sil ence.
“ So,” Magnus sai d fi nall y, r unni ng a l ong whit e fi nger ar ound t he ri m of hi s cha mpagne gl ass. “Jor dan. I hear you’r e
i n t he Pr aet or Lupus. I see you’r e weari ng one of t heir medalli ons. What does it say on it ?”
Jor dan nodded. He was fl ushed, hi s hazel eyes sparkli ng, hi s att enti on cl earl y onl y partl y on t he conversati on. He
was f oll o wi ng Mai a ar ound t he r oo m wit h hi s eyes, hi s fi ngers nervousl y cl enchi ng and uncl enchi ng on t he edge of
t he t abl ecl ot h. Si mon doubt ed he was even a war e of it. “ Beati bellicos: i Bl essed ar e t he warri ors.”
“ Good or gani zati on,” sai d Magnus. “I kne w t he man who f ounded it, back i n t he 1800s. Wool sey Scott.
Respectable old werewolf family.”
Al ec made an ugl y sound i n t he back of hi s t hr oat. “ Di d you sl eep wit h hi m, t oo?”
Magnus’s cat eyes widened. “Alexander!”
“ Well, I don’t kno w anyt hi ng about your past, do I ?” Al ec de manded. “ You won’t t ell me anyt hi ng; you j ust say it
doesn’t matt er.”
Magnus’ s f ace was expr essi onl ess, but t her e was a dark ti nge of anger t o hi s voi ce. “ Does t hi s mean every ti me I
menti on anyone I’ ve ever met, you’r e goi ng t o ask me if I had an aff air wit h t he m?”
Al ec’ s expr essi on was st ubbor n, but Si mon coul dn’t hel p havi ng a fl ash of sy mpat hy; t he hurt behi nd hi s bl ue eyes
was clear. “Maybe.”
“I met Napol eon once,” sai d Magnus. “ We di dn’t have an aff air, t hough. He was shocki ngl y pr udi sh f or a
Frenchman.”
“You met Napoleon?” Jordan, who appeared to be missing most of the conversation, looked impressed. “So it’s
tr ue what t hey say about warl ocks, t hen?”
Alec gave him a very unpleasant lookW. h“at’strue ?”
“ Al exander,” sai d Magnus col dl y, and Cl ary met Si mon’ s eyes acr oss t he t abl e. Hers wer e wi de, gr een, and f ull of
an expr essi on t hat sai d Uh- oh. “ You can’t be r ude t o everyone who t al ks t o me.”
Alec made a wide, sweeping gesture. “And why not? Cramping your style, am I? I mean, maybe you were hoping
t o flirt wit h wer e wolf boy her e. He’ s pr ett y attr acti ve, if you li ke t he messy- hair ed, br oad-shoul der ed, chi sel edgood-
looks type.”
“ Hey, no w,” sai d Jor dan mil dl y.
Magnus put his head in his hands.
“ Or t her e ar e pl ent y of pr ett y girl s her e, si nce appar entl y your t ast e goes bot h ways. Is t her e anyt hi ng you aren’t
into?”
“ Mer mai ds,” sai d Magnus i nt o hi s fi ngers. “ They al ways s mell li ke sea weed.”
“It’s not funny ,” Al ec sai d savagel y, and ki cki ng back hi s chair, he got up fr o m t he t abl e and st al ked off i nt o t he
crowd.
Magnus still had hi s head i n hi s hands, t he bl ack spi kes of hi s hair sti cki ng out bet ween hi s fi ngers. “I j ust don’t
see,” he sai d t o no one i n parti cul ar, “ why t he past has t o matt er.”
To Si mon’ s sur pri se it was Jor dan who ans wer ed. “ The past al ways matt ers,” he sai d. “ That’ s what t hey t ell you
when you j oi n t he Pr aet or. You can’t f or get t he t hi ngs you di d i n t he past, or you’ll never l ear n fr o m t he m.”
Magnus looked up, his gold-green eyes glinting through his fingers. “How old are you?” he demanded. “Sixteen?”
“ Ei ght een,” sai d Jor dan, l ooki ng sli ghtl y fri ght ened.
Al ec’ s age, t hought Si mon, suppr essi ng an i nt eri or gri n. He di dn’t r eall y fi nd Al ec and Magnus’ s dr a ma f unny, but
it was har d not t o f eel a cert ai n bitt er a muse ment at Jor dan’ s expr essi on. Jor dan had t o be t wi ce Magnus’ s si ze —
despit e bei ng t all, Magnus was sl ender t o t he poi nt of ski nni ness —but Jor dan was cl earl y afr ai d of hi m. Si mon
t ur ned t o shar e a gl ance wit h Cl ary, but she was st ari ng off t o war d t he fr ont door, her f ace gone suddenl y bone
whit e. Dr oppi ng her napki n ont o t he t abl e, she mur mur ed, “ Excuse me,” and got t o her f eet, pr acti call y fl eei ng t he
table.
Magnus t hr e w hi s hands up. “ Well, if t her e’ s goi ng t o be a mass exodus . . . ,” he sai d, and got up gr acef ull y,
fli ngi ng hi s scarf ar ound hi s neck. He vani shed i nt o t he cr o wd, pr esu mabl y l ooki ng f or Al ec.
Si mon l ooked at Jor dan, who was l ooki ng at Mai a agai n. She had her back t o t he m and was t al ki ng t o Luke and
Jocel yn, l aughi ng, fli ngi ng her curl y hair back. “ Don’t even t hi nk about it,” Si mon sai d, and got up. He poi nt ed at
Jor dan. “ You st ay her e.”
“And do what?” Jordan demanded.
“ What ever Pr aet or Lupus do i n t hi s sit uati on. Medit at e. Cont e mpl at e your Jedi po wers. What ever. I’ll be back i n
fi ve mi nut es, and you bett er still be her e.”
Jordan leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest in a clearly mutinous manner, but Simon had already
st opped payi ng att enti on. He t ur ned and moved i nt o t he cr o wd, f oll o wi ng Cl ary. She was a speck of r ed and gol d
a mong t he movi ng bodi es, cr o wned wit h her t wi st of bri ght hair.
He caught up t o her by one of t he li ght- wr apped pill ars, and put a hand on her shoul der. She t ur ned wit h a st artl ed
excl a mati on, eyes wi de, hand r ai sed as if t o f end hi m off. She r el axed when she sa w who it was. “ You scar ed me!”
“ Obvi ousl y,” Si mon sai d. “ What’ s goi ng on? What ar e you so fr eaked out about ?”
“I . . .” She l o wer ed her hand wit h a shr ug; despit e her f orced l ook of casual di s mi ssal, t he pul se was goi ng i n her
neck li ke a ha mmer. “I t hought I sa w Jace.”
“I fi gur ed,” Si mon sai d. “ But . . .”
“But?”
“ You l ook r eall y fri ght ened.” He wasn’t sur e why he’ d sai d it exactl y, or what he was hopi ng she’ d say back. She bit
her li p, t he way she al ways di d when she was nervous. Her gaze f or a mo ment was f ar a way; it was a l ook f a mili ar
t o Si mon. One of t he t hi ngs he’ d al ways l oved about Cl ary was ho w easil y caught up i n her i magi nati on she was,
ho w easil y she coul d wall herself a way i n ill usory worl ds of curses and pri nces and desti ny and magi c. Once he
had been able to do the same, had been able to inhabit imaginary worlds all the more exciting for being safe—for
bei ng fi cti onal. No w t hat t he r eal and t he i magi ned had colli ded, he wonder ed if she, li ke he, l onged f or t he past,
f or t he nor mal. He wonder ed if nor mal cy was so met hi ng, li ke vi si on or sil ence, you di dn’t r eali ze was pr eci ous until
you l ost it.
“ He’ s havi ng a har d ti me,” she sai d i n a l o w voi ce. “I’ m scar ed f or hi m.”
“I kno w,” Si mon sai d. “ Look, not t o pry, but —has he fi gur ed out what’ s wr ong wit h hi m? Has anyone?”
“ He —” She br oke off. “ He’ s all ri ght. He’ s j ust havi ng a har d ti me co mi ng t o t er ms wit h so me of t he Val enti ne st uff.
You kno w.” Si mon di d kno w. He al so kne w she was l yi ng. Cl ary, who har dl y ever hi d anyt hi ng fr o m hi m. He gave
her a hard look.
“He’s been having bad dreams,” she said. “He was worried that there was some demon involvement—”
“Demon involvement?” Simon echoed in disbelief. He’d known that Jace was having bad dreams—he’d said as
much—but Jace had never mentioned demons.
“ Well, appar entl y t her e ar e ki nds of de mons t hat try t o r each you t hr ough your dr ea ms,” Cl ary sai d, soundi ng as if
she wer e sorry she’ d br ought it up at all, “ but I’ m sur e it’ s not hi ng. Everyone has bad dr ea ms so meti mes, don’t
t hey?” She put a hand on Si mon’ s ar m. “I’ m j ust goi ng t o see ho w he i s. I’ll co me back.” Her gaze was alr eady
sli di ng past hi m, t o war d t he doors t hat l ed ont o t he t err ace; he st ood back wit h a nod and l et her go, wat chi ng her
as she moved off i nt o t he cr o wd.
She l ooked so s mall —s mall t he way she had i n first gr ade when he’ d wal ked her t o t he fr ont door of her house
and wat ched her go up t he st airs, ti ny and det er mi ned, her l unch box bangi ng agai nst her knee as she went. He
f elt hi s heart, whi ch no l onger beat, contr act, and he wonder ed if t her e was anyt hi ng i n t he worl d as pai nf ul as not
being able to protect the people you loved.
“ You l ook si ck,” sai d a voi ce at hi s el bo w. Husky, f a mili ar. “ Thi nki ng about what a horri bl e person you ar e?”
Si mon t ur ned and sa w Mai a l eani ng agai nst t he pill ar behi nd hi m. She had a str and of t he s mall, gl o wi ng whit e
li ght s wound ar ound her neck, and her f ace was fl ushed wit h cha mpagne and t he war mt h of t he r oo m.
“ Or maybe I shoul d say,” she went on, “ what a horri bl e va mpir e you ar e. Except t hat makes it sound li ke you’r e bad
at being a vampire.”
“I a m bad at bei ng a va mpir e,” Si mon sai d. “ But t hat doesn’t mean I wasn’t bad at bei ng a boyfri end, t oo.”
She s mil ed cr ookedl y. “ Bat says I shoul dn’t be so har d on you,” she sai d. “ He says guys do st upi d t hi ngs when
girl s ar e i nvol ved. Especi all y geeky ones who pr evi ousl y haven’t had much l uck wit h wo men.”
“It’ s li ke he can see i nt o my soul.”
Mai a shook her head. “It’ s har d t o st ay mad at you,” she sai d. “ But I’ m worki ng on it.” She t ur ned a way.
“ Mai a,” Si mon sai d. Hi s head had st art ed t o ache, and he f elt a littl e di zzy. If he di dn’t t al k t o her no w, t hough, he
never woul d. “ Pl ease. Wait.”
She turned back and looked at him, both eyebrows raised questioningly.
“I’ m sorry about what I di d,” he sai d. “I kno w I sai d t hat bef or e, but I r eall y do mean it.”
She shrugged, expressionless, giving hi m nothing.
He s wall o wed past t he pai n i n hi s head. “ Maybe Bat’ s ri ght,” he sai d. “ But I t hi nk t her e’ s mor e t o it t han t hat. I
wanted to be with you because—and this is going to sound so selfish—you made me feel normal. Like the person
I was bef or e.”
“I’ m a wer e wolf, Si mon. Not exactl y nor mal.”
“ But you —you ar e,” he sai d, st u mbli ng over hi s wor ds a littl e. “ You’r e genui ne and r eal —one of t he r eal est peopl e
I’ ve ever kno wn. You want ed t o co me over and pl ay Hal o. You want ed t o t al k about co mi cs and check out concert s
and go danci ng and j ust do nor mal t hi ngs. And you tr eat ed me li ke I was nor mal. You’ ve never call ed me
‘ Dayli ght er’ or ‘ va mpir e’ or anyt hi ng but Si mon.”
“ That’ s all fri end st uff,” Mai a sai d. She was l eani ng agai nst t he pill ar agai n, her eyes gli nti ng softl y as she spoke.
“ Not girlfriend st uff.”
Simon just looked at her. His headache pulsed like a heartbeat.
“And then you come around,” she added, “bringing Jordan with you . Whawt ere you thinking?”
“ That’ s not f air,” Si mon pr ot est ed. “I had no i dea he was your ex —”
“I kno w. Isabell e t ol d me,” Mai a i nt err upt ed. “I j ust f eel li ke gi vi ng you hell about it any way.”
“ Oh, yeah?” Si mon gl anced over at Jor dan, who was sitti ng al one at t he r ound li nen- dr aped t abl e, li ke a guy
whose pr o m dat e hadn’t sho wed up. Si mon suddenl y f elt very tir ed —tir ed of worryi ng about everyone, tir ed of
f eeli ng guilt y f or t he t hi ngs he’ d done and woul d pr obabl y do i n t he f ut ur e. “ Well, di d Izzy t ell you t hat Jor dan got
hi mself assi gned t o me so he coul d be near you? You shoul d hear t he way he asks about you. The way he says
your na me, even. Man, t he way he ri pped i nt o me when he t hought I was cheati ng on you —”
“ You wer en’t cheati ng. We wer en’t excl usi vel y dati ng. Cheati ng i s diff er ent —”
Si mon s mil ed as Mai a br oke off, bl ushi ng. “I guess it’ s good t hat you di sli ke hi m so much t hat you’ll t ake my si de
agai nst hi m no matt er what,” he sai d.
“It’ s been years,” she sai d. “ He’ s never tri ed t o get i n t ouch wit h me. Not once.”
“ He di d try,” Si mon sai d. “ Di d you kno w t he ni ght he bit you was t he first ti me he ever Tur ned?”
She shook her head, her curl s bounci ng, her wi de a mber eyes very seri ous. “ No. I t hought he kne w —”
“ That he was a wer e wolf ? No. He kne w he was l osi ng contr ol i n so me way, but who guesses t hey’r e t ur ni ng i nt o a
wer e wolf ? The day aft er he bit you he went l ooki ng f or you, but t he Pr aet or st opped hi m. They kept hi m a way fr o m
you. Even t hen he di dn’t st op l ooki ng. I don’t t hi nk a day’ s gone by i n t he past t wo years t hat he hasn’t wonder ed
where you were—”
“Why are you defending him?” she whispered.
“ Because you shoul d kno w,” sai d Si mon. “I sucked at bei ng a boyfri end, and I o we you. You shoul d kno w he di dn’t
mean to abandon you. He only took me on as an assignment because your name was mentioned in the notes on
my case.”
Her li ps part ed. As she shook her head, t he glitt eri ng li ght s of her neckl ace wi nked li ke st ars. “I j ust don’t kno w
what I’ m supposed t o do wit h t hat, Si mon. What a m I supposed t o do ?”
“I don’t kno w,” Si mon sai d. Hi s head f elt li ke nail s wer e bei ng pounded i nt o it. “ But I can t ell you one t hi ng. I’ m t he
l ast guy i n t he worl d you shoul d be aski ng f or r el ati onshi p advi ce fr o m.” He pr essed a hand t o hi s f or ehead. “I’ m
goi ng t o go out si de. Get so me air. Jor dan’ s over at t hat t abl e t her e if you want t o t al k t o hi m.”
He gest ur ed over t o war d t he t abl es and t hen t ur ned a way, a way fr o m her questi oni ng eyes, fr o m t he eyes of
everyone in the room, the sound of raised voices and laughter, and stumbled toward the doors.
* * *
Cl ary pushed open t he doors t hat l ed out ont o t he t err ace and was gr eet ed by a r ush of col d air. She shi ver ed,
wi shi ng she had her coat but unwilli ng t o t ake up any ti me goi ng back t o t he t abl e t o get it. She st epped out ont o
t he t err ace and shut t he door behi nd her.
The terrace was a wide expanse of flagstones, surrounded by ironwork railings. Tiki torches burned in big pewter
hol ders, but t hey di d littl e t o war m t he air —whi ch pr obabl y expl ai ned why no one was out her e but Jace. He was
st andi ng by t he r aili ng, l ooki ng out over t he ri ver.
She want ed t o r un over t o hi m, but she coul dn’t hel p hesit ati ng. He was weari ng a dark suit, t he j acket open over a
whit e shirt, and hi s head was t ur ned t o t he si de, a way fr o m her. She had never seen hi m dr essed li ke t hi s bef or e,
and it made hi m l ook ol der and a littl e r e mot e. The wi nd off t he ri ver lift ed hi s f air hair, and she sa w t he littl e scar
acr oss t he si de of hi s t hr oat wher e Si mon had bitt en hi m once, and she r e me mber ed t hat Jace had l et hi mself be
bitt en, had ri sked hi s lif e, f or her.
“Jace,” she said.
He turned and looked at her and smiled. The smile was familiar and seemed to unlock something inside her,
fr eei ng her t o r un acr oss t he fl agst ones t o hi m and t hr o w her ar ms ar ound hi m. He pi cked her up and hel d her off
t he gr ound f or a l ong ti me, hi s f ace buri ed i n her neck.
“ You’r e all ri ght,” she sai d fi nall y, when he set her do wn. She scr ubbed fi ercel y at t he t ears t hat had spill ed out of
her eyes. “I mean —t he Sil ent Br ot hers woul dn’t have l et you go if you wer en’t all ri ght —but I t hought t hey sai d t he
rit ual was goi ng t o t ake a l ong ti me? Days, even?”
“It di dn’t.” He put hi s hands on eit her si de of her f ace and s mil ed do wn at her. Behi nd hi m t he Queensbor o Bri dge
arced out over t he wat er. “ You kno w t he Sil ent Br ot hers. They li ke t o make a bi g deal out of everyt hi ng t hey do. But
it’ s act uall y a pr ett y si mpl e cer e mony.” He gri nned. “I f elt ki nd of st upi d. It’ s a cer e mony meant f or littl e ki ds, but I
j ust kept t hi nki ng t hat if I got it over wit h f ast, I’ d get t o see you i n your sexy part y dr ess. It got me t hr ough.” Hi s eyes
r aked her up and do wn. “ And l et me t ell you, I a m not disappointed. You’re gorgeous.”
“ You l ook pr ett y good yourself.” She l aughed a littl e t hr ough t he t ears. “I di dn’t even t hi nk you o wned a suit.”
“I di dn’t. I had t o buy one.” He sli d hi s t hu mbs over her cheekbones wher e t he t ears had made t he m da mp. “ Cl ary
—”
“ Why di d you co me out her e?” she asked. “It’ s fr eezi ng. Don’t you want t o go back i nsi de?”
He shook hi s head. “I want ed t o t al k t o you al one.”
“ So t al k,” Cl ary sai d i n a half whi sper. She t ook hi s hands a way fr o m her f ace and put t he m on her wai st. Her need
to be held against him was almost overwhelming. “Is something else wrong? Are you going to be okay? Please
don’t hol d anyt hi ng back fr o m me. Aft er everyt hi ng t hat’ s happened, you shoul d kno w I can handl e any bad ne ws.”
She kne w she was nervousl y chatt eri ng, but she coul dn’t hel p it. Her heart f elt as if it wer e beati ng a t housand
mil es a mi nut e. “I j ust want you t o be all ri ght,” she sai d as cal ml y as she coul d.
Hi s gol d eyes darkened. “I keep goi ng t hr ough t hat box. The one t hat bel onged t o my f at her. I don’t f eel anyt hi ng
about it. The l ett ers, t he phot os. I don’t kno w who t hose peopl e wer e. They don’t f eel r eal t o me. Val enti ne was
r eal.”
Cl ary bli nked; it wasn’t what she’ d expect ed hi m t o say. “ Re me mber, I sai d t hat it woul d t ake ti me —”
He di dn’t even see m t o hear her. “If I r eall y wer e Jace Mor genst er n, woul d you still l ove me? If I wer e Sebasti an,
would you love me?”
She squeezed hi s hands. “ You coul d never be li ke t hat.”
“If Val enti ne di d t o me what he di d t o Sebasti an, would you love me?”
Ther e was an ur gency t o t he questi on t hat she di dn’t underst and. Cl ary sai d, “ But t hen you woul dn’t be you.”
Hi s br eat h caught, al most as if what she’ d sai d had hurt hi m—but ho w coul d it have? It was t he tr ut h. He wasn’t
li ke Sebasti an. He was li ke hi mself. “I don’t kno w who I a m,” he sai d. “I l ook at myself i n t he mirr or and I see
St ephen Her ondal e, but I act li ke a Li ght wood and t al k li ke my f at her —li ke Val enti ne. So I see who I a m i n your
eyes, and I try t o be t hat person, because you have f ait h i n t hat person and I t hi nk f ait h mi ght be enough t o make
me what you want.”
“ You’r e alr eady what I want. You al ways have been,” Cl ary sai d, but she coul dn’t hel p f eeli ng as if she wer e calli ng
i nt o an e mpt y r oo m. It was as if Jace coul d n’htear her, no matt er ho w many ti mes she t ol d hi m she l oved hi m. “I
kno w you f eel li ke you don’t kno w who you ar e, but I do. I kno w. And so meday you will t oo. And i n t he meanti me
you can’t keep worrying about losing me, because it’ll never happen.”
“ Ther e i s a way . . .” Jace r ai sed hi s eyes t o hers. “ Gi ve me your hand.”
Sur pri sed, Cl ary r eached her hand out, r e me mberi ng t he first ti me he’ d ever t aken her hand li ke t hat. She had t he
r une no w, t he open- eye r une, on t he back of her hand, t he one he’ d b een l ooki ng f or t hen and hadn’t f ound. Her
first per manent r une. He t ur ned her hand over, bari ng her wri st, t he vul ner abl e ski n of her f or ear m.
She shi ver ed. The wi nd off t he ri ver f elt as if it wer e dri vi ng i nt o her bones. “Jace, what ar e you doi ng?”
“Remember what I said about Shadowhunter weddings? How instead of exchanging rings, we Mark each other
wit h r unes of l ove and co mmit ment ?” He l ooked at her, hi s eyes wi de and vul ner abl e under t heir t hi ck gol d l ashes.
“I want t o Mark you i n a way t hat will bi nd us t oget her, Cl ary. It’ s j ust a s mall Mark, but it’ s per manent. Ar e you
willi ng?”
She hesit at ed. A per manent r une, when t hey wer e so young —her mot her woul d be i ncensed. But not hi ng el se
see med t o be worki ng; not hi ng she sai d convi nced hi m. Maybe t hi s woul d. Sil entl y, she dr e w out her st el e and
handed it t o hi m. He t ook it, br ushi ng her fi ngers as he di d. She was shi veri ng har der no w, col d every wher e
except wher e he t ouched her. He cr adl ed her ar m agai nst hi m and l o wer ed t he st el e, t ouchi ng it softl y t o her ski n,
movi ng it gentl y up and do wn, and t hen, when she di dn’t pr ot est, wit h mor e f orce. As col d as she was, t he bur n of
t he st el e was al most wel co me. She wat ched as t he dark li nes spir al ed out fr o m t he ti p of it, f or mi ng a patt er n of
hard, angular lines.
Her nerves ti ngl ed wit h a sudden al ar m. The patt er n di dn’t speak of l ove and co mmit ment t o her; t her e was
something else there, something darker, something that spoke of control and submission, of loss and darkness.
Was he dr a wi ng t he wr ong r une? But t hi s was Jace; sur el y he kne w bett er t han t hat. And yet a nu mbness was
begi nni ng t o spr ead up her ar m fr o m t he pl ace t he st el e t ouched —a pai nf ul ti ngli ng, li ke nerves waki ng up —and
she f elt di zzy, as if t he gr ound wer e movi ng under her —
“Jace.” Her voi ce r ose, ti nged wit h anxi et y. “Jace, I don’t t hi nk t hat’ s ri ght —”
He l et her ar m go. He hel d t he st el e bal anced li ghtl y i n hi s hand, wit h t he sa me gr ace wit h whi ch he woul d hol d any
weapon. “I’ m sorry, Cl ary,” he sai d. “I do want t o be bound t o you. I woul d never li e about t hat.”
She opened her mout h t o ask hi m what on eart h he was t al ki ng about, but no wor ds ca me. The darkness was
r ushi ng up t oo f ast. The l ast t hi ng she f elt was Jace’ s ar ms ar ound her as she f ell.
Aft er what see med li ke an et er nit y of wanderi ng ar ound what he consi der ed t o be an extr e mel y bori ng part y,
Magnus fi nall y f ound Al ec, sitti ng al one at a t abl e i n a cor ner, behi nd a spr ay of artifi ci al whit e r oses. Ther e wer e a
number of champagne glasses on the table, most half-full, as if passing partygoers had abandoned them there.
Al ec was l ooki ng r at her abandoned hi mself. He had hi s chi n i n hi s hands and was st ari ng moodil y i nt o space. He
di dn’t l ook up, even when Magnus hit ched a f oot ar ound t he chair opposit e hi s, spun it t o war d hi m, and sat do wn,
r esti ng hi s ar ms al ong t he back.
“ Do you want t o go back t o Vi enna?” he sai d.
Al ec di dn’t ans wer, j ust st ar ed i nt o space.
“ Or we coul d go so me wher e el se,” sai d Magnus. “ Any wher e you want. Thail and, Sout h Car oli na, Br azil, Per u —Oh,
wait, no, I’ m banned fr o m Per u. I’ d f or gott en about t hat. It’ s a l ong st ory, but a musi ng if you want t o hear it.”
Al ec’ s expr essi on sai d t hat he very much di d not want t o hear it. Poi nt edl y he t ur ned and l ooked out over t he r oo m
as if t he wer e wolf stri ng quart et f asci nat ed hi m.
Si nce Al ec was i gnori ng hi m, Magnus deci ded t o a muse hi mself by changi ng t he col ors of t he cha mpagne i n t he
gl asses on t he t abl e. He made one bl ue, t he next pi nk, and was worki ng on gr een when Al ec r eached acr oss t he
t abl e and hit hi m on t he wri st.
“ St op t hat,” he sai d. “ Peopl e ar e l ooki ng.”
Magnus l ooked do wn at hi s fi ngers, whi ch wer e spr ayi ng bl ue sparks. Maybe it was a bit obvi ous. He curl ed hi s
fi ngers under. “ Well,” he sai d. “I have t o do so met hi ng t o keep myself fr o m dyi ng of bor edo m, si nce you’r e not
t al ki ng t o me.”
“I’ m not,” sai d Al ec. “ Not t al ki ng t o you, I mean.”
“ Oh?” sai d Magnus. “I j ust asked you if you want ed t o go t o Vi enna, or Thail and, or t he moon, and I don’t r ecall you
saying anything in response.”
“I don’t kno w what I want.” Al ec, hi s head bent, was pl ayi ng wit h an abandoned pl asti c f ork. Though hi s eyes wer e
defi antl y cast do wn, t heir pal e bl ue col or was vi si bl e even t hr ough hi s l o wer ed eyeli ds, whi ch wer e pal e and as
fi ne as parch ment. Magnus had al ways f ound hu mans mor e beautif ul t han any ot her cr eat ur es ali ve on t he eart h,
and had oft en wonder ed why. Onl y a f e w years bef or e di ssol uti on, Ca mill e had sai d. But it was mort alit y t hat made
t he m what t hey wer e, t he fl a me t hat bl azed bri ght er f or it s fli ckeri ng. Deat h i s t he mot her of beaut y, as t he poet
sai d. He wonder ed if t he Angel had ever consi der ed maki ng hi s hu man servant s, t he Nephili m, i mmort al. But no,
f or all t heir str engt h, t hey f ell as hu mans had al ways f all en i n battl e t hr ough all t he ages of t he worl d.
“ You’ ve got t hat l ook agai n,” Al ec sai d peevi shl y, gl anci ng up t hr ough hi s l ashes. “ Li ke you’r e st ari ng at so met hi ng
I can’t see. Ar e you t hi nki ng about Ca mill e?”
“ Not r eall y,” Magnus sai d. “ Ho w much of t he conversati on I had wit h her di d you over hear ?”
“ Most of it.” Al ec pr odded t he t abl ecl ot h wit h hi s f ork. “I was li st eni ng at t he door. Enough.”
“ Not at all enough, I t hi nk.” Magnus gl ar ed at t he f ork, and it ski dded out of Al ec’ s gr asp and acr oss t he t abl e
t o war d hi m. He sl a mmed hi s hand do wn on t op of it and sai d, “ St op fi dgeti ng. What was it I sai d t o Ca mill e t hat
bothered you so much?”
Alec raised his blue eyes. “Who ’sWill ?”
Magnus exhal ed a sort of l augh. “ Will. Dear God. That was a l ong ti me ago. Will was a Shado whunt er, li ke you.
And yes, he di d l ook li ke you, but you’r e not anyt hi ng li ke hi m. Jace i s much mor e t he way Will was, i n personalit y
at l east —and my r el ati onshi p wit h you i s not hi ng li ke t he one I had wit h Will. Is t hat what’s bothering you?”
“I don’t li ke t hi nki ng you’r e onl y wit h me because I l ook li ke so me dead guy you li ked.”
“I never sai d t hat. Ca mill e i mpli ed it. She i s a mast er of i mpli cati on and mani pul ati on. She al ways has been.”
“ You di dn’t t ell her she was wr ong.”
“If you l et Ca mill e, she will att ack you on every fr ont. Def end one fr ont, and she will att ack anot her. The onl y way t o
deal wit h her i s t o pr et end she i sn’t getti ng t o you.”
“ She sai d pr ett y boys wer e your undoi ng,” Al ec sai d. “ Whi ch makes it sound li ke I’ m j ust one i n a l ong li ne of t oys
f or you. One di es or goes a way, you get anot her one. I’ m not hi ng. I’ m—tri vi al.”
“Alexander—”
“ Whi ch,” Al ec went on, st ari ng do wn at t he t abl e agai n, “i s especi all y unf air, because you ar e anyt hi ng but tri vi al f or
me. I changed my whol e lif e f or you. But not hi ng ever changes f or you, does it ? I guess t hat’ s what it means t o li ve
f or ever. Not hi ng ever r eall y has t o matt er all t hat much.”
“I’ m t elli ng you t hat you do matt er —”
“ The Book of t he Whit e,” Al ec sai d, suddenl y. “ Why di d you want it so badl y?”
Magnus l ooked at hi m, puzzl ed. “ You kno w why. It’ s a very po werf ul spell book.”
“ But you want ed it f or so met hi ng specifi c, di dn’t you? A spell t hat was i n it ?” Al ec t ook a r agged br eat h. “ You don’t
have t o ans wer; I can t ell by your f ace t hat you di d. Was it —was it a spell f or maki ng me i mmort al ?”
Magnus f elt shaken t o hi s cor e. “ Al ec,” he whi sper ed. “ No. No, I —I woul dn’t do t hat.”
Al ec fi xed hi m wit h hi s pi erci ng bl ue gaze. “ Why not ? Why t hr ough all t he years of all t he r el ati onshi ps you’ ve ever
had have you never tri ed t o make any of t he m i mmort al li ke you? If you coul d have me wit h you f or ever, woul dn’t
you want t o?”
“ Of course I woul d!” Magnus, r eali zi ng he was al most shouti ng, l o wer ed hi s voi ce wit h an eff ort. “ But you don’t
underst and. You don’t get so met hi ng f or not hi ng. The pri ce f or li vi ng f or ever —”
“ Magnus.” It was Isabell e, hurryi ng t o war d t he m, her phone i n her hand. “ Magnus, I need t o t al k t o you.”
“Isabell e.” Nor mall y Magnus li ked Al ec’ s si st er. Not so much at t he mo ment. “ Lovel y, wonderf ul Isabell e. Coul d you
please go away? Now is a really bad time.”
Isabell e l ooked fr o m Magnus t o her br ot her, and back agai n. “ Then, you don’t want me t o t ell you t hat Ca mill e’ s
just escaped fr o m t he Sanct uary and my mot her i s de mandi ng t hat you co me back t o t he I nstit ut e ri ght no w t o hel p
t he m fi nd her ?”
“ No,” Magnus sai d. “I don’t want you t o t ell me t hat.”
“ Well, t oo bad,” Isabell e sai d. “ Because it’ s tr ue. I mean, I guess you don’t have t o go, but —”
The r est of t he sent ence hung i n t he air, but Magnus kne w what she wasn’t sayi ng. If he di dn’t go, t he Cl ave woul d
be suspi ci ous t hat he’ d had so met hi ng t o do wit h Ca mill e’ s escape, and t hat was t he l ast t hi ng he needed.
Maryse woul d be f uri ous, co mpli cati ng hi s r el ati onshi p wit h Al ec even f urt her. And yet —
“She escaped?” Al ec sai d. “ No one’ s ever escaped fr o m t he Sanct uary.”
“Well,” said Isabelle, “now someone has.”
Al ec sl unk do wn l o wer i n hi s seat. “ Go,” he sai d. “It’ s an e mer gency. Just go. We can t al k l at er.”
“ Magnus . . .” Isabell e sounded half- apol ogeti c, but t her e was no mi st aki ng t he ur gency i n her voi ce.
“ Fi ne.” Magnus st ood up. “ But,” he added, pausi ng by Al ec’ s chair and l eani ng i n cl ose t o hi m, “ you ar e not tri vi al. ”
Al ec fl ushed. “If you say so,” he sai d.
“I say so,” sai d Magnus, and he t ur ned t o f oll o w Isabell e out of t he r oo m.
Out si de on t he desert ed str eet, Si mon l eaned agai nst t he wall of t he Ir onworks, agai nst t he i vy-cover ed bri ck, and
st ar ed up at t he sky. The li ght s of t he bri dge washed out t he st ars so t her e was not hi ng t o see but a sheet of
vel vet y bl ackness. He wi shed wit h a sudden fi erceness t hat he coul d br eat he i n t he col d air t o cl ear hi s head, t hat
he coul d f eel it on hi s f ace, on hi s ski n. All he was weari ng was a t hi n shirt, and it made no diff er ence. He couldn’t
shi ver, and even t he me mory of what it f elt li ke t o shi ver was goi ng a way fr o m hi m, littl e by littl e, every day, sli ppi ng
away like the memories of another life.
“ Si mon?”
He fr oze wher e he st ood. That voi ce, s mall and f a mili ar, drifti ng li ke a t hr ead on t he col d air. S mil e. That was t he
l ast t hi ng she had sai d t o hi m.
But it coul dn’t be. She was dead.
“ Won’t you l ook at me, Si mon?” Her voi ce was as s mall as ever, bar el y a br eat h. “I’ m ri ght her e.”
Dread clawed its way up his spine. He opened his eyes, and turned his head slowly.
Maur een st ood i n t he circl e of li ght cast by a str eetl a mp j ust at t he cor ner of Ver non Boul evar d. She wor e a l ong
whit e vir gi nal dr ess. Her hair was br ushed str ai ght do wn over her shoul ders, shi ni ng yell o w i n t he l a mpli ght. Ther e
was still so me gr ave dirt caught i n it. Ther e wer e littl e whit e sli ppers on her f eet. Her f ace was dead whit e, circl es
of r ouge pai nt ed on her cheekbones, and her mout h col or ed a dark pi nk as if it had been dr a wn on wit h a f elt-ti p
mar ker.
Si mon’ s knees gave out. He sli d do wn t he wall he had been l eani ng agai nst, until he was sitti ng on t he gr ound, hi s
knees dr a wn up. Hi s head f elt li ke it was goi ng t o expl ode.
Maureen gave a girlish little giggle and stepped out of the lamplight. She moved toward him and looked down; her
f ace wor e a l ook of a mused sati sf acti on.
“I t hought you’ d be sur pri sed,” she sai d.
“ You’r e a va mpir e,” Si mon sai d. “ But —ho w? I di dn’t do t hi s t o you. I kno w I di dn’t.”
Maur een shook her head. “It wasn’t you. But it was because of you. They t hought I was your girlfri end, you kno w.
They t ook me out of my bedr oo m at ni ght, and t hey kept me i n a cage f or t he whol e next day. They t ol d me not t o
worry because you’ d co me f or me. But you di dn’t co me. You never ca me.”
“I di dn’t kno w.” Si mon’ s voi ce cr acked. “I woul d have co me if I’ d kno wn.”
Maur een fl ung her bl ond hair back over her shoul der i n a gest ur e t hat r e mi nded Si mon suddenl y and pai nf ull y of
Ca mill e. “It doesn’t matt er,” she sai d i n her girli sh littl e voi ce. “ When t he sun went do wn, t hey t ol d me I coul d di e or I
coul d choose t o li ve li ke t hi s. As a va mpir e.”
“So you chotshies ?”
“I di dn’t want t o di e,” she br eat hed. “ And no w I’ll be pr ett y and young f or ever. I can st ay out all ni ght, and I never
need t o go ho me. And she t akes car e of me.”
“ Who ar e you t al ki ng about ? Who’ s she? Do you mean Ca mill e? Look, Maur een, she’ s cr azy. You shoul dn’t li st en
t o her.” Si mon st agger ed t o hi s f eet. “I can get you hel p. Fi nd you a pl ace t o st ay. Teach you ho w t o be a va mpir e
—”
“ Oh, Si mon.” She s mil ed, and her littl e whit e t eet h sho wed i n a pr eci se r o w. “I don’t t hi nk you kno w ho w t o be a
va mpir e eit her. You di dn’t want t o bit e me, but you di d. I r e me mber. Your eyes went all bl ack li ke a shark’ s, and
you bit me.”
“I’ m so sorry. If you’ll l et me hel p you —”
“ You coul d co me wit h me,” she sai d. “ That woul d hel p me.”
“ Co me wit h you wher e?”
Maur een l ooked up and do wn t he e mpt y str eet. She l ooked li ke a ghost i n her t hi n whit e dr ess. The wi nd bl e w it
ar ound her body, but she cl earl y di dn’t f eel t he col d. “ You have been chosen,” she sai d. “ Because you ar e a
Daylighter. Those who di d t hi s t o me want you. But t hey kno w you bear t he Mark no w. They can’t get t o you unl ess
you choose t o co me t o t he m. So t hey sent me as a messenger.” She cocked her head t o t he si de, li ke a bir d’ s. “I
mi ght not be anyone who matt ers t o you,” she sai d, “ but t he next ti me it will be. They will keep co mi ng f or t he
peopl e you l ove until t her e i s no one l eft, so you mi ght as well co me wit h me and fi nd out what t hey want.”
“ Do you kno w?” Si mon asked. “ Do you kno w what t hey want ?”
She shook her head. She was so pal e under t he diff use l a mpli ght t hat she l ooked al most tr anspar ent, as if Si mon
coul d have l ooked ri ght t hr ough her. The way, he supposed, he al ways had.
“ Does it matt er ?” she sai d, and r eached out her hand.
“ No,” he sai d. “ No, I guess it doesn’t.” And he t ook her hand.
16
NEW YORK CI TY ANGELS
“ We’r e her e, ” Maur een sai d t o Si mon.
She had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and was looking up at a massive glass-and-stone building that
r ose above t he m. It was cl earl y desi gned t o l ook li ke one of t he l uxury apart ment co mpl exes t hat had been built on
Manhatt an’ s Upper East Si de bef or e t he Second Worl d War, but t he moder n t ouches gave it a way —t he hi gh
sheet s of wi ndo ws, t he copper r oof unt ouched by ver di gri s, t he banner si gns dr api ng t he msel ves do wn t he fr ont of
t he edifi ce, pr o mi si ng L UXURY CONDOS STARTI NG AT $750, 000. Appar entl y t he purchase of one woul d entitl e
you t o t he use of a r oof gar den, a fit ness cent er, a heat ed pool, and t went y-f our- hour door man servi ce, st arti ng i n
Dece mber. At t he mo ment t he pl ace was still under constr ucti on, and KEEP OUT: PRI VATE PROPERTY si gns
were tacked t o t he scaff ol di ng t hat surr ounded it.
Si mon l ooked at Maur een. She see med t o be getti ng used t o bei ng a va mpir e pr ett y f ast. They had r un over t he
Queensboro Bridge and up Second Avenue to get here, and her white slippers were shredded. But she had never
sl o wed, and had never see med sur pri sed not t o have gott en tir ed. She was l ooki ng up at t he buil di ng no w wit h a
beatifi c expr essi on, her s mall f ace agl o w wit h what Si mon coul d onl y guess was anti ci pati on.
“ Thi s pl ace i s cl osed,” he sai d, kno wi ng he was st ati ng t he obvi ous. “ Maur een —”
“ Hush.” She r eached out a s mall hand t o pull at a pl acar d att ached t o a cor ner of t he scaff ol di ng. It ca me a way wit h
a sound of t eari ng pl ast er boar d and ri pped- out nail s. So me of t he m r attl ed t o t he gr ound at Si mon’ s f eet. Maur een
tossed the square of plasterboard aside and grinned at the hole she’d made.
An old man who’d been passing by, walking a small plaid-jacketed poodle on a leash, stopped and stared. “You
ought t o get a coat on your littl e si st er t her e,” he sai d t o Si mon. “ Ski nny t hi ng li ke t hat, she’ll fr eeze i n t hi s weat her.”
Bef or e Si mon coul d r epl y, Maur een t ur ned on t he man wit h a f er oci ous gri n, sho wi ng all her t eet h, i ncl udi ng her
needle fangs“.I a m not hi s si st er,” she hissed.
The man blanched, picked up his dog, and hurried away.
Si mon shook hi s head at Maur een. “ You di dn’t need t o do t hat.”
Her f angs had pi erced her l o wer li p, so met hi ng t hat had happened t o Si mon oft en bef or e he’ d gott en used t o
t he m. Thi n tri ckl es of bl ood r an do wn her chi n. “ Don’t t ell me what t o do,” she sai d peevi shl y, but her f angs
r etr act ed. She wi ped t he back of her hand acr oss her chi n, a chil di sh gest ur e, s meari ng t he bl ood. Then she
t ur ned back t o t he hol e she’ d made. “ Co me on.”
She ducked through, and he followed her. They passed through an area where the construction crew had clearly
dumped their junk. There were broken tools lying around, smashed bricks, old plastic bags, and Coke cans
litt eri ng t he gr ound. Maur een lift ed her skirt s and pi cked her way dai ntil y t hr ough t he wr eckage, a l ook of di sgust
on her f ace. She hopped over a narr o w tr ench, and up a r o w of cr acked st one st eps. Si mon f oll o wed.
The steps led to a set of glass doors, propped open. Through the doors was an ornate marble lobby. A massive
unlit chandeli er hung fr o m t he ceili ng, t hough t her e was no li ght t o spark off it s pendant cryst al s. It woul d have been
t oo dark i n t he r oo m f or a hu man t o see at all. Ther e was a mar bl e desk f or a door man t o sit at, a gr een chai se
l ongue beneat h a gilt- edged mirr or, and banks of el evat ors on eit her si de of t he r oo m. Maur een hit t he butt on f or
t he el evat or, and t o Si mon’ s sur pri se, it lit.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
The elevator pinged, and Maureen stepped in, Simon behind her. The elevator was paneled in gold and red, with
fr ost ed gl ass mirr ors on each of t he wall s. “ Up.” She hit t he butt on f or t he r oof and gi ggl ed. “ Up t o Heaven,” she
said, and the doors closed.
“I can’t fi nd Si mon.”
Isabelle, who had been leaning against a pillar in the Ironworks and trying not to brood, looked up to see Jordan
l oo mi ng over her. He r eall y was most unr easonabl y t all, she t hought. He had t o be at l east si x f oot t wo. She had
thought he was very attr acti ve t he first ti me she’ d seen hi m, wit h hi s t ousl ed dark hair and gr eeni sh eyes, but no w
t hat she kne w he was Mai a’ s ex, she had moved hi m fir ml y i nt o t he ment al space she r eserved f or boys who wer e
off-li mit s.
“ Well, I haven’t seen hi m,” she sai d. “I t hought you wer e supposed t o be hi s keeper.”
“ He t ol d me he was goi ng t o be ri ght back. That was f ort y mi nut es ago. I fi gur ed he was goi ng t o t he bat hr oo m.”
“What kind of guardian are you? Shouldn’t you have gone to the bathroom wit h him?” Isabelle demanded.
Jor dan l ooked horrifi ed. “ Dudes,” he sai d, “ do not f oll o w ot her dudes t o t he bat hr oo m.”
Isabell e si ghed. “ Lat ent ho mosexual pani c will do you i n every ti me,” she sai d. “ Co me on. Let’ s l ook f or hi m.”
They circl ed t he part y, movi ng i n and out a mong t he guest s. Al ec was sul ki ng al one at a t abl e, pl ayi ng wit h an
e mpt y cha mpagne gl ass. “ No, I haven’t seen hi m,” he sai d i n r esponse t o t heir questi on. “ Though ad mitt edl y I
haven’t been looking.”
“Well, you can search along with us,” said Isabelle. “It’ll give you something to do besides look miserable.”
Al ec shr ugged and j oi ned t he m. They deci ded t o split up and f an out acr oss t he part y. Al ec headed upst airs t o
search t he cat wal ks and t he second l evel. Jor dan went out si de t o check t he t err aces and t he entry way. Isabell e
t ook t he part y ar ea. She was j ust wonderi ng whet her gl anci ng under t he t abl es woul d act uall y be ri di cul ous, when
Mai a ca me up behi nd her. “ Everyt hi ng all ri ght ?” she i nquir ed. She gl anced up t o war d Al ec, and t hen i n t he
dir ecti on Jor dan had gone. “I kno w a searchi ng f or mati on when I see one. What ar e you guys l ooki ng f or ? Is t her e
trouble?”
Isabell e fill ed her i n on t he Si mon sit uati on.
“I j ust t al ked t o hi m about half an hour ago.”
“ So di d Jor dan, but he’ s gone no w. And si nce peopl e have been tryi ng t o kill hi m l at el y . . .”
Mai a set her gl ass do wn on t he t abl e. “I’ll hel p you l ook.”
“ You don’t have t o. I kno w you’r e not f eeli ng super-f ond of Si mon ri ght no w —”
“ That doesn’t mean I don’t want t o hel p out if he’ s i n tr oubl e ,” Maia said, as if Isabelle were being ridiculous.
“Wasn’t Jordan supposed to be watching him?”
Isabelle threw up her hands. “Yeah, but apparently dudes don’t follow other dudes to the bathroom or something.
He wasn’t maki ng a l ot of sense.”
“Guys never do,” Maia said, and followed her. They glided in and out through the crowd, though Isabelle was
alr eady pr ett y sur e t hey wer en’t goi ng t o fi nd Si mon. She had a s mall col d spot i n t he mi ddl e of her st o mach t hat
was gr o wi ng bi gger and col der. By t he ti me t hey’ d all convened back at t heir ori gi nal t abl e, she f elt as if she’ d
swallowed a glass of ice water.
“ He i sn’t her e,” she sai d.
Jor dan s wor e, t hen st ar ed guiltil y at Mai a. “ Sorry.”
“I’ ve hear d worse,” she sai d. “ So what’ s t he next st ep? Anyone tri ed calli ng hi m?”
“ Str ai ght t o voi ce mail,” Jor dan sai d.
“Any idea where he might have gone?” asked Alec.
“Best-case scenario, maybe back to the apartment,” said Jordan. “Worst, those people who’ve been after him
fi nall y got hi m.”
“People who what?” Alec looked bewildered; while Isabelle had told Maia Simon’s story, she hadn’t had a chance
t o fill her br ot her i n yet.
“I’ m goi ng t o head back t o t he apart ment and l ook f or hi m,” sai d Jor dan. “If he’ s t her e, gr eat. If not, t hat’ s still wher e
I shoul d st art. They kno w wher e he li ves; t hey’ ve been sendi ng us messages t her e. Maybe t her e’ll be a message.”
He didn’t sound too hopeful.
Isabelle made a split-second decision. “I’ll go with you.”
“ You don’t have t o —”
“ Yes, I do. I t ol d Si mon he shoul d co me her e t oni ght; I’ m r esponsi bl e. Besi des, I’ m havi ng a cr ap ti me at t hi s part y
anyway.”
“ Yeah,” Al ec sai d, l ooki ng r eli eved at t he pr ospect of getti ng out of t her e. “ Me t oo. Maybe we shoul d all go. Shoul d
we t ell Cl ary?”
Isabell e shook her head. “It’ s her mo m’ s part y. It woul dn’t be f air. Let’ s see what we can do j ust t he t hr ee of us.”
“Three of you?” Maia asked, a tone of delicate annoyance shading her voice.
“ Do you want t o co me wit h us, Mai a?” It was Jor dan. Isabell e fr oze; she wasn’t sur e ho w Mai a woul d r espond t o
havi ng her ex- boyfri end speak t o her dir ectl y. The ot her girl’ s mout h ti ght ened a littl e, and f or j ust a mo ment she
l ooked at Jor dan —not as if she hat ed hi m, but t houghtf ull y.
“It’ s Si mon,” she sai d fi nall y, as if t hat deci ded everyt hi ng. “I’ll go get my coat.”
The elevator doors opened onto a swirl of dark air and shadows. Maureen gave another high-pitched giggle and
danced out i nt o t he darkness, l eavi ng Si mon t o f oll o w her wit h a si gh.
They st ood i n a l ar ge mar bl e wi ndo wl ess r oo m. Ther e wer e no li ght s, but t he wall t o t he l eft of t he el evat or was
fitt ed wit h a t o weri ng set of doubl e gl ass doors. Thr ough t he m Si mon coul d see t he fl at surf ace of t he r oof, and
above it t he bl ack ni ght sky over head pi npoi nt ed wit h f ai ntl y gl o wi ng st ars.
The wi nd was bl o wi ng har d agai n. He f oll o wed Maur een t hr ough t he doors and out i nt o t he col d, gusti ng air, her
dr ess fl utt eri ng ar ound her li ke a mot h beati ng it s wi ngs agai nst a gal e. The r oof gar den was as el egant as t he
signs had promised. Smooth hexagonal stone tiles made up the flooring; there were banks of flowers blooming
under gl ass, and car ef ull y cli pped t opi ary hedges i n t he shapes of monst ers and ani mal s. The wal k way t hey
followed was lined with tiny gleaming lights. All around them rose high glass-and-steel apartment buildings, their
wi ndo ws agl o w wit h el ectri cit y.
The path dead-ended at a row of raised, tiled steps, atop which was a wide square bordered on three sides by
t he hi gh wall t hat encircl ed t he gar den. It was cl earl y i nt ended t o be an ar ea wher e t he buil di ng’ s event ual
residents would socialize. There was a big concrete block in the center of the square, which would probably
someday hold a grill, Simon guessed, and the area was encircled by neatly clipped rosebushes that in June would
bloom, just as the bare trellises adorning the walls would one day vanish under a covering of leaves. It would be an
attractive space eventually, a luxury Upper East Side penthouse garden where you could relax on a lounge chair,
wit h t he East Ri ver glitt eri ng under t he sunset, and t he cit y str et ched out bef or e you, a mosai c of shi mmeri ng li ght.
Except. The til e fl oor had been def aced, spl att er ed wit h so me sort of bl ack, sti cky fl ui d t hat had been used t o dr a w
a r ough circl e, i nsi de a l ar ger circl e. The space bet ween t he t wo circl es was fill ed wit h scr a wl ed r unes. Though
Si mon wasn’t a Shadowhunter, he’d seen enough Nephili m runes t o r ecogni ze what ca me fr o m t he Gr ay Book.
These didn’t. They looked menacing and wrong, like a curse scrawled in an unfamiliar language.
I n t he very cent er of t he circl e was t he concr et e bl ock. On t op of it a bul ky r ect angul ar obj ect sat, dr aped wit h a
dark cl ot h. The shape of it was not unli ke t hat of a coffi n. Mor e r unes wer e scri bbl ed ar ound t he base of t he bl ock.
If Si mon’ s bl ood had r un, it woul d have r un col d.
Maur een cl apped her hands t oget her. “ Oh,” she sai d i n her elfi n littl e voi ce. “It’ s pr ett y.”
“ Pr ett y?” Si mon l ooked qui ckl y at t he hunched shape on t op of t he concr et e bl ock. “ Maur een, what t he hell —”
“ So you br ought hi m.” It was a wo man’ s voi ce t hat spoke, cult ur ed, str ong, and —f a mili ar. Si mon t ur ned. St andi ng
on t he pat hway behi nd hi m was a t all wo man wit h short dark hair. She was very sl ender, weari ng a l ong dark coat,
belt ed ar ound t he mi ddl e li ke a f e mme f at al e fr o m a f orti es spy movi e. “ Maur een, t hank you,” she went on. She
had a har d, beautif ul f ace, shar pl y pl aned, wit h hi gh cheekbones and wi de dark eyes. “ You’ ve done very well. You
may go no w.” She t ur ned her gaze on Si mon. “ Si mon Le wi s,” she sai d. “ Thank you f or co mi ng.”
The moment she said his name he recognized her. The last time he’d seen her she’d been standing in pouring
r ai n out si de t he Alt o Bar. “ You. I r e me mber you. You gave me your car d. The musi c pr o mot er. Wo w, you must
really want t o pr o mot e my band. I di dn’t even t hi nk we wer e t hat good.”
“ Don’t be sarcasti c,” t he wo man sai d. “ Ther e’ s no poi nt i n it.” She gl anced si de ways. “ Maur een. You may go.” Her
voi ce was fir m t hi s ti me, and Maur een, who had been hoveri ng li ke a littl e ghost, gave a ti ny squeak and dart ed
back t he way t hey’ d co me. He wat ched as she vani shed t hr ough t he doors t hat l ed t o t he el evat ors, f eeli ng al most
sorry t o see her go. Maur een wasn’t much co mpany, but wit hout her he f elt very al one. Whoever t hi s str ange
woman was, she gave off a clear aura of dark power he’d been too blood-drugged to notice before.
“ You l ed me a dance, Si mon,” she sai d, and no w her voi ce was co mi ng fr o m anot her dir ecti on, sever al f eet a way.
Si mon spun, and sa w t hat she was st andi ng besi de t he concr et e bl ock, i n t he cent er of t he circl e. The cl ouds wer e
bl o wi ng s wiftl y acr oss t he moon, casti ng a movi ng patt er n of shado ws acr oss her f ace. Because he was at t he
f oot of t he st eps, he had t o cr ane hi s head back t o l ook up at her. “I t hought getti ng hol d of you woul d be easy.
Deali ng wit h a si mpl e va mpir e. A ne wl y made one, at t hat. Even a Dayli ght er i s not hi ng I haven’t encount er ed
bef or e, t hough t her e has not been one f or a hundr ed years. Yes,” she added, wit h a s mil e at hi s gl ance, “I a m ol der
t han I l ook.”
“ You l ook pr ett y ol d.”
She i gnor ed t he i nsult. “I sent my best peopl e aft er you, and onl y one r et ur ned, wit h so me babbl ed t al e about hol y
fir e and t he wr at h of God. He was quit e usel ess t o me aft er t hat. I had t o have hi m put do wn. It was most annoyi ng.
Aft er t hat I deci ded I ought t o deal wit h you myself. I f oll o wed you t o your sill y musi cal sho w, and aft er war d, when I
ca me up t o you, I sa w it. Your Mark. As one who kne w Cai n personall y, I a m i nti mat el y f a mili ar wit h it s shape.”
“Knew Cain personally?” Si mon shook hi s head. “ You can’t expect me t o beli eve t hat.”
“ Beli eve it or do not beli eve it,” she sai d. “It makes no diff er ence t o me. I a m ol der t han t he dr ea ms of your ki nd,
littl e boy. I wal ked t he pat hs of t he Gar den of Eden. I kne w Ada m bef or e Eve di d. I was hi s first wif e, but I woul d not
be obedi ent t o hi m, so God cast me out and made f or Ada m a ne w wif e, one f ashi oned of hi s o wn body t hat she
mi ght ever be subservi ent.” She s mil ed f ai ntl y. “I have many na mes. But you may call me Lilit h, first of all de mons.”
At t hat, Si mon, who had not f elt col d i n mont hs, fi nall y shi ver ed. He had hear d t he na me Lilit h bef or e. He coul dn’t
r e me mber wher e exactl y, but he kne w it was a na me associ at ed wit h darkness, wit h evil and t erri bl e t hi ngs.
“ Your Mark pr esent ed me wit h a conundr u m,” sai d Lilit h. “I need you, you see, Dayli ght er. Your lif e f orce —your
bl ood. But I coul d not f orce you or har m you.”
She sai d t hi s as if needi ng hi s bl ood wer e t he most nat ur al t hi ng i n t he worl d.
“ You —dri nk bl ood?” Si mon asked. He f elt dazed, as if he wer e tr apped i n a str ange dr ea m. Sur el y t hi s coul dn’t
really be happening.
She l aughed. “ Bl ood i s not t he f ood of de mons, sill y chil d. What I want fr o m you i s not f or myself.” She hel d out a
slender hand. “Come closer.”
Si mon shook hi s head. “I’ m not st eppi ng i nsi de t hat circl e.”
She shr ugged. “ Very well, t hen. I i nt ended onl y t o gi ve you a bett er vi e w.” She moved her fi ngers sli ghtl y, al most
negli gentl y, t he gest ur e of so meone t wit chi ng a curt ai n asi de. The bl ack cl ot h coveri ng t he coffi n-shaped obj ect
between them vanished.
Si mon st ar ed at what was r eveal ed. He had not been wr ong about t he coffi n shape. It was a bi g gl ass box, j ust
l ong and wi de enough f or a person t o li e do wn i n. A gl ass coffi n, he t hought, li ke Sno w Whit e’ s. But t hi s was no
f airy t al e. I nsi de t he coffi n was a cl oudy li qui d, and fl oati ng i n t hat li qui d —naked fr o m t he wai st up, hi s whit e- bl ond
hair drifting around him like pale seaweed—was Sebastian.
Ther e wer e no messages st uck t o Jor dan’ s apart ment door, not hi ng on or under t he wel co me mat, and not hi ng
immediately obvious inside the apartment, either. While Alec stood guard downstairs and Maia and Jordan
rummaged through Simon’s backpack in the living room, Isabelle, standing in the doorway of Simon’s bedroom,
l ooked sil entl y at t he pl ace he’ d been sl eepi ng f or t he past f e w days. It was so e mpt y —j ust f our wall s, naked of any
decor ati on, a bar e fl oor wit h a f ut on mattr ess on it and a whit e bl anket f ol ded at t he f oot, and a si ngl e wi ndo w t hat
looked out onto Avenue B.
She coul d hear t he cit y —t he cit y she had gr o wn up i n, whose noi ses had al ways surr ounded her, si nce she was a
baby. She had f ound t he qui et of I dri s t erri bl y ali en wit hout t he sounds of car al ar ms, peopl e shouti ng, a mbul ance
sir ens, and musi c pl ayi ng t hat never, i n Ne w York Cit y, quit e went a way, even i n t he dead of ni ght. But no w,
st andi ng her e l ooki ng at Si mon’ s s mall r oo m, she t hought about ho w l onel y t hose noi ses sounded, ho w di st ant,
and whet her he had been l onel y hi mself at ni ght, l yi ng her e l ooki ng up at t he ceili ng, al one.
Then agai n, it wasn’t as if she’ d ever seen hi s bedr oo m at ho me, whi ch pr esu mabl y was cover ed wit h band
post ers, sport s tr ophi es, boxes of t hose ga mes he l oved t o pl ay, musi cal i nstr u ment s, books —all t he fl ot sa m and
jetsam of a normal life. She’d never asked to come over, and he’d never suggested it. She’d been gun-shy of
meeti ng hi s mot her, of doi ng anyt hi ng t hat mi ght bespeak a gr eat er co mmit ment t han she was willi ng t o make. But
no w, l ooki ng at t hi s e mpt y shell of a r oo m, f eeli ng t he vast dark bustl e of t he cit y all ar ound her, she f elt a t wi nge of
f ear f or Si mon —mi xed wit h an equal t wi nge of r egr et.
She t ur ned back t o war d t he r est of t he apart ment, but paused when she hear d a l o w mur mur of voi ces co mi ng
fr o m t he li vi ng r oo m. She r ecogni zed Mai a’ s voi ce. She di dn’t sound angry, whi ch was sur pri si ng i n and of it self,
considering how much she seemed to hate Jordan.
“ Not hi ng,” she was sayi ng. “ So me keys, a bunch of papers wit h ga me st at s scr a wl ed on t he m.” Isabell e l eaned
ar ound t he door way. She coul d see Mai a, st andi ng on one si de of t he kit chen count er, her hand i n t he zi p pocket
of Si mon’ s backpack. Jor dan, on t he ot her si de of t he count er, was wat chi ng her. Wat chi ng her, Isabell e t hought,
not what she was doi ng —t hat way guys wat ched you when t hey wer e so i nt o you t hey wer e f asci nat ed by every
move you made. “I’ll check hi s wall et.”
Jor dan, who had changed out of hi s f or mal wear i nt o j eans and a l eat her j acket, fr o wned. “ Weir d t hat he l eft it. Can
I see?” He reached across the counter.
Mai a j erked back so f ast she dr opped t he wall et, her hand fl yi ng out.
“I wasn’t . . .” Jor dan dr e w hi s hand back sl o wl y. “I’ m sorry.”
Mai a t ook a deep br eat h. “ Look,” she sai d, “I t al ked t o Si mon. I kno w you never meant t o Tur n me. I kno w you
di dn’t kno w what was happeni ng t o you. I r e me mber what t hat was li ke. I r e me mber bei ng t errifi ed.”
Jor dan put hi s hands do wn sl o wl y, car ef ull y, on t he count ert op. It was odd, Isabell e t hought, wat chi ng so meone so
t all try t o make hi mself l ook har ml ess and s mall. “I shoul d have been t her e f or you.”
“ But t he Pr aet or woul dn’t l et you be,” Mai a sai d. “ And l et’ s f ace it, you di dn’t kno w anyt hi ng about bei ng a
werewolf; we would have been like two blindfolded people stumbling around in a circle. Maybe it’s better you
wer en’t t her e. It made me r un a way t o wher e I coul d get hel p. Fr o m t he Pack.”
“ At first I hoped t he Pr aet or Lupus woul d bri ng you i n,” he whi sper ed. “ So I coul d see you agai n. Then I r eali zed
t hat was selfi sh and I shoul d be wi shi ng t hat I di dn’t pass on t he di sease t o you. I kne w it was fift y-fift y. I t hought you
mi ght be one of t he l ucky ones.”
“ Well, I wasn’t,” she sai d, matt er- of-f actl y. “ And over t he years I built you up i n my head t o be t hi s sort of monst er. I
t hought you kne w what you wer e doi ng when you di d t hi s t o me. I t hought it was r evenge on me f or ki ssi ng t hat
boy. So I hated you. And hating you made everything easier. Having someone to blame.”
“ You shoul d bl a me me,” he sai d. “It i s my f ault.”
She r an her fi nger al ong t he count ert op, avoi di ng hi s eyes. “I do bl a me you. But . . . not t he way I di d bef or e.”
Jor dan r eached up and gr abbed hi s o wn hair wit h hi s fi st s, t uggi ng on it har d. “ Ther e i sn’t a day goes by I don’t
t hi nk about what I di d t o you. I bit you. I Tur ned you. I made you what you ar e. I r ai sed my hand t o you. I hurt you.
The one person I l oved mor e t han anyt hi ng el se i n t he worl d.”
Mai a’ s eyes wer e shi ni ng wit h t ears. “ Do ns’tay t hat. That doesn’t hel p. You t hi nk t hat hel ps?”
Isabell e cl ear ed her t hr oat l oudl y, st eppi ng i nt o t he li vi ng r oo m. “ So. Have you f ound anyt hi ng?”
Mai a l ooked a way, bli nki ng r api dl y. Jor dan, l o weri ng hi s hands, sai d, “ Not r eall y. We wer e j ust about t o go t hr ough
hi s wall et.” He pi cked it up fr o m wher e Mai a had dr opped it. “ Her e.” He t ossed it t o Isabell e.
She caught it and fli cked it open. School pass, Ne w York st at e nondri ver’ s I D, a guit ar pi ck t ucked i nt o t he space
t hat was supposed t o hol d cr edit car ds. A t en- doll ar bill and a r ecei pt f or di ce. So met hi ng el se caught her eye —a
busi ness car d, shoved car el essl y behi nd a phot o of Si mon and Cl ary, t he ki nd of pi ct ur e you mi ght t ake i n a
cheap drugstore photo booth. They were both smiling.
Isabell e t ook out t he car d and st ar ed at it. It had a s wirli ng, al most abstr act desi gn of a fl oati ng guit ar agai nst
cl ouds. Bel o w t hat was a na me.
Satrina Kendall. Band Promoter. Below that was a telephone number, and an Upper East Side address. Isabelle
fr o wned. So met hi ng, a me mory, t ugged at t he back of her mi nd.
Isabell e hel d t he car d up t o war d Jor dan and Mai a, who wer e busy not l ooki ng at each ot her. “ What do you t hi nk of
this?”
Before they could respond the apartment door opened, and Alec strode in. He was scowling. “Have you found
anyt hi ng? I’ ve been st andi ng do wn t her e f or t hirt y mi nut es, and not hi ng even r e mot el y t hr eat eni ng has co me by.
Unl ess you count t he NYU st udent who t hr e w up on t he fr ont st eps.”
“ Her e,” Isabell e sai d, handi ng t he car d over t o her br ot her. “ Look at t hi s. Does anyt hi ng stri ke you as odd?”
“You mean besides the fact that no band promoter could possibly be interested in Lewis’s sucky band?” Alec
inquired, taking the card between two long fingers. Lines appeared between his eyes. “Satrina?”
“ Does t hat na me mean so met hi ng t o you?” Mai a asked. Her eyes wer e still r ed, but her voi ce was st eady.
“ Satri na i s one of t he sevent een na mes of Lilit h, t he mot her of all de mons. She i s why warl ocks ar e call ed Lilit h’ s
chil dr en,” sai d Al ec. “ Because she mot her ed de mons, and t hey i n t ur n br ought f ort h t he r ace of warl ocks.”
“And you have all seventeen names committed to memory?” Jordan sounded dubious.
Alec gave him a cold look. “Who are you again?”
“ Oh, shut up, Al ec,” Isabell e sai d, i n t he t one she onl y ever t ook wit h her br ot her. “ Look, not all of us have your
me mory f or bori ng f act s. I don’t suppose you r ecall t he ot her names of Lilith?”
Wit h a superi or l ook Al ec r attl ed t he m off, “ Satri na, Lilit h, It a, Kali, Bat na, Talt o —”
“Talto!” Isabelle yelped. “That’s it. I knew I was remembering somethin gk.n Iew t her e was a connecti on!” Qui ckl y
she t ol d t he m about t he Church of Talt o, what Cl ary had f ound t her e, and ho w it connect ed t o t he dead half- de mon
baby at Beth Israel.
“I wi sh you’ d t ol d me about t hi s bef or e,” Al ec sai d. “ Yes, Talt o i s anot her na me f or Lilit h. And Lilit h has al ways
been associ at ed wit h babi es. She was Ada m’ s first wif e, but she fl ed fr o m t he Gar den of Eden because she
didn’t want to obey Adam or God. God cursed her for her disobedience, though—any child she bore would die.
The l egend says she tri ed over and over t o have a chil d, but t hey wer e all bor n dead. Event uall y she s wor e she
would have vengeance against God by weakening and murdering infant humans. You might say she’s the demon
goddess of dead children.”
“ But you sai d she was t he mot her of de mons,” sai d Mai a.
“She was able to create demons by scattering drops of her blood on the earth in a place called Edom,” said Alec.
“ Because t hey wer e bor n out of her hatr ed f or God and manki nd, t hey beca me de mons.” Awar e t hat t hey wer e all
st ari ng at hi m, he shr ugged. “It’ s j ust a st ory.”
“ All st ori es ar e tr ue,” sai d Isabell e. Thi s had been a t enet of her beli ef s si nce she was a chil d. All Shado whunt ers
beli eved it. Ther e was no one r eli gi on, no one tr ut h —and no myt h l acked meani ng. “ You kno w t hat, Al ec.”
“I kno w so met hi ng el se, t oo,” Al ec sai d, handi ng her back t he car d. “ That t el ephone nu mber and t hat addr ess ar e
cr ap. No way t hey’r e r eal.”
“ Maybe,” Isabell e sai d, t ucki ng t he car d i nt o her pocket. “ But we don’t have any wher e el se t o st art l ooki ng. So
we’r e goi ng t o st art t her e.”
Si mon coul d onl y st ar e. The body fl oati ng i nsi de t he coffi n —Sebasti an’ s —di dn’t appear t o be ali ve; at l east, he
wasn’t br eat hi ng. But he cl earl y wasn’t exactl y dead, eit her. It had been t wo mont hs. If he were dead, Simon was
f airl y sur e, he’ d l ook li ke he was i n a l ot worse shape t han he di d. Hi s body was very whit e, li ke mar bl e; one hand
was a bandaged stump, but he was otherwise unmarked. He appeared to be asleep, his eyes shut, his arms
l oose at hi s si des. Onl y t he f act t hat hi s chest wasn’t ri si ng or f alli ng i ndi cat ed t hat so met hi ng was very wr ong.
“ But,” Si mon sai d, kno wi ng he sounded ri di cul ous, “ he’ s dead. Jace kill ed hi m.”
Lilit h pl aced a pal e hand on t he gl ass surf ace of t he coffi n. “Jonat han,” she sai d, and Si mon r e me mber ed t hat t hat
was, i nf act, hi s na me. Her voi ce had an odd soft qualit y when she sai d it, as if she wer e cr ooni ng t o a chil d. “ He’ s
beautif ul, i sn’t he?”
“ Um,” sai d Si mon, l ooki ng wit h l oat hi ng at t he cr eat ur e i nsi de t he coffi n —t he boy who had mur der ed ni ne-year- ol d
Max Li ght wood. The cr eat ur e who had kill ed Hodge. Had tri ed t o kill t he m all. “ Not my t ype, r eall y.”
“Jonat han i s uni que,” she sai d. “ He i s t he onl y Shado whunt er I have ever kno wn of who i s part Gr eat er De mon.
Thi s makes hi m very po werf ul.”
“ He’ s dead,” Si mon sai d. He f elt t hat, so meho w, it was i mport ant t o keep maki ng t hi s poi nt, t hough Lilit h di dn’t
see m t o quit e gr asp it.
Lilit h, gazi ng do wn at Sebasti an, fr o wned. “It’ s tr ue. Jace Li ght wood sli pped up behi nd hi m and st abbed hi m i n t he
back, t hr ough t o t he heart.”
“ Ho w do you —”
“I was i n I dri s,” sai d Lilit h. “ When Val enti ne opened t he door way t o t he de mon worl ds, I ca me t hr ough. Not t o fi ght
i n hi s st upi d battl e. Out of curi osit y mor e t han anyt hi ng el se. That Val enti ne shoul d have such hubri s —” She br oke
off, shr uggi ng. “ Heaven s mot e hi m do wn f or it, of course. I sa w t he sacrifi ce he made; I sa w t he Angel ri se and t ur n
on hi m. I sa w what was br ought back. I a m t he ol dest of de mons; I kno w t he Ol d La ws. A lif e f or a lif e. I r aced t o
Jonat han. It was al most t oo l at e. That whi ch was hu man about hi m di ed i nst antl y —hi s heart had ceased t o beat,
hi s l ungs t o i nfl at e. The Ol d La ws wer e not enough. I tri ed t o bri ng hi m back t hen. He was t oo f ar gone. All I coul d
do was t hi s. Pr eserve hi m f or t hi s mo ment.”
Simon wondered briefly what would happen if he made a run for it—dashed past this insane demon and threw
hi mself off t he r oof of t he buil di ng. He coul dn’t be har med by anot her li vi ng cr eat ur e; t hat was t he r esult of t he
Mark, but he doubt ed it s po wer ext ended t o pr ot ecti ng hi m agai nst t he gr ound. Still, he was a va mpir e. If he f ell
f ort y st ori es and s mashed every bone i n hi s body, woul d he heal fr o m t hat ? He s wall o wed har d and f ound Lilit h
l ooki ng at hi m wit h a muse ment.
“ Don’t you want t o kno w,” she sai d i n her col d, seducti ve voi ce, “ what mo ment I mean?” Bef or e he coul d ans wer,
she l eaned f or war d, her el bo ws on t he coffi n. “I suppose you kno w t he st ory of t he way t he Nephili m ca me t o be?
Ho w t he Angel Razi el mi xed hi s bl ood wit h t he bl ood of men, and gave it t o a man t o dri nk, and t hat man beca me
t he first of t he Nephili m?”
“I’ ve hear d it.”
“I n eff ect t he Angel cr eat ed a ne w r ace of cr eat ur e. And no w, wit h Jonat han, a ne w r ace has been bor n agai n. As
Jonat han Shado whunt er l ed t he first Nephili m, so shall t hi s Jonat han l ead t he ne w r ace t hat I i nt end t o cr eat e.”
“ The ne w r ace you i nt end —” Si mon hel d up hi s hands. “ You kno w what, you want t o l ead a ne w r ace st arti ng off
wit h one dead guy, you go ri ght ahead. I don’t see what t hi s has t o do wit h me.”
“ He i s dead no w. He need not r e mai n so.” Lilit h’ s voi ce was cool, une moti onal. “ Ther e i s, of course, one ki nd of
Do wnworl der whose bl ood off ers t he possi bilit y of, shall we say, r esurr ecti on.”
“ Va mpir es,” sai d Si mon. “ You want me t o t ur n Sebasti an i nt o a va mpir e ?”
“ Hi s na me i s Jonat han.” Her t one was shar p. “ And yes, i n a sense. I want you t o bit e hi m, t o dri nk hi s bl ood, and t o
give him your blood in exchange—”
“I won’t do it.”
“ Ar e you so sur e of t hat ?”
“ A worl d wit hout Sebasti an” —Si mon used t he na me deli ber at el y —“i n it i s a bett er worl d t han one wit h hi m i n it. I
won’t do it.” Anger was ri si ng i n Si mon, a s wift ti de. “ Any way, I coul dn’t if I want ed t o. He’ s dead. Vampires can’t
bri ng back t he dead. You ought t o kno w t hat, if you kno w so much. Once t he soul i s gone fr o m t he body, not hi ng
can bring someone back. Thankfully.”
Lilit h bent her gaze on hi m. “ You r eall y don’t kno w, do you?” she sai d. “ Cl ary never t ol d you.”
Si mon was getti ng f ed up. “ Never t ol d me what ?”
She chuckl ed. “ An eye f or an eye, a t oot h f or a t oot h, a lif e f or a lif e. To pr event chaos t her e must be or der. If a lif e
i s gi ven t o t he Li ght, a lif e i s o wed t o t he Dark as well.”
“I have,” Si mon sai d sl o wl y and deli ber at el y, “lit er all y no i dea what you’r e t al ki ng about. And I don’t car e. You
villains and your creepy eugenics programs are starting to bore me. So I’m going to leave now. You’re welcome to
try t o st op me by t hr eat eni ng or hurti ng me. I encour age you t o go ahead and try.”
She l ooked at hi m and chuckl ed. “‘ Cai n r ose up,’” she sai d. “ You ar e a bit li ke hi m whose Mark you bear. He was
st ubbor n, as you ar e. Fool har dy, t oo.”
“ He went up agai nst —” Si mon choked on t he wor d. God. “I’ m j ust deali ng wit h you.” He t ur ned t o l eave.
“I woul d not t ur n your back on me, Dayli ght er,” sai d Lilit h, and t her e was so met hi ng i n her voi ce t hat made hi m l ook
back at her, wher e she l eaned on Sebasti an’ s coffi n. “ You t hi nk you cannot be hurt,” she sai d wit h a sneer. “ And
indeed I cannolit ft a hand agai nst you. I a m not a f ool; I have seen t he hol y fir e of t he di vi ne. I have no wi sh t o see it
t ur ned agai nst me. I a m not Val enti ne, t o bar gai n wit h what I cannot underst and. I a m a de mon, but a very ol d one. I
kno w hu manit y bett er t han you mi ght t hi nk. I underst and t he weaknesses of pri de, of l ust f or po wer, of desir e of t he
fl esh, of gr eed and vanit y and l ove.”
“ Love i sn’t a weakness.”
“ Oh, i sn’t it ?” she sai d, and gl anced past hi m, wit h a l ook as col d and poi nt ed as an i ci cl e.
He t ur ned, not wanti ng t o, kno wi ng he must, and l ooked behi nd hi m.
Ther e on t he bri ck wal k way was Jace. He wor e a dark suit and a whit e shirt. St andi ng i n fr ont of hi m was Cl ary,
still i n t he pr ett y gol d-col or ed dr ess she had wor n t o t he Ir onworks part y. Her l ong, wavy r ed hair had co me out of
it s knot and hung do wn ar ound her shoul ders. She st ood very still i n t he circl e of Jace’ s ar ms. It woul d al most have
l ooked li ke a r o manti c pi ct ur e if it wer e not f or t he f act t hat i n one of hi s hands, Jace was hol di ng a l ong and
glittering bone-handled knife, and the edge of it was pressed against Clary’s throat.
Si mon st ar ed at Jace i n t ot al and absol ut e shock. Ther e was no e moti on on Jace’ s f ace, no li ght i n hi s eyes. He
see med utt erl y bl ank.
Very slightly he inclined his head.
“I br ought her, Lady Lilit h,” he sai d. “Just as you asked.”
17
AND CAI N ROSE UP
Clary had never been so cold.
Even when she had cr a wl ed out of Lake Lyn, coughi ng and sputt eri ng it s poi sonous wat er ont o t he shor e, she
hadn’t been t hi s col d. Even when she had t hought Jace was dead, she hadn’t f elt t hi s t erri bl e i cy par al ysi s i n her
heart. Then she had bur ned wit h r age, r age agai nst her f at her. No w she j ust f elt i ce, all t he way do wn t o her t oes.
She had co me back t o consci ousness i n t he mar bl e l obby of a str ange buil di ng, under t he shado w of an unlit
chandeli er. Jace had been carryi ng her, one ar m under her bent knees, t he ot her supporti ng her head. Still di zzy
and groggy, she’d buried her head against his neck for a moment, trying to remember where she was.
“What happened?” she had whispered.
They had r eached t he el evat or. Jace pushed t he butt on, and Cl ary hear d t he r attl e t hat meant t he machi ne was
movi ng do wn t o war d t he m. But wher e wer e t hey?
“You were unconscious,” he said.
“ But ho w —” She r e me mber ed t hen, and f ell sil ent. Hi s hands on her, t he sti ng of her st el e on her ski n, t he wave of
darkness t hat had co me over her. So met hi ng wr ong wit h t he r une he had dr a wn on her, t he way it had l ooked and
f elt. She st ayed moti onl ess i n hi s ar ms f or a mo ment, and t hen sai d:
“ Put me do wn.”
He set her do wn on her f eet, and t hey l ooked at each ot her. Onl y a s mall space separ at ed t he m. She coul d have
r eached out and t ouched hi m, but f or t he first ti me si nce she had met hi m, she di dn’t want t o. She had t he t erri bl e
feeling that she was looking at a stranger. He looked like Jace, and sounded like Jace when he spoke, and had
f elt li ke Jace when she was hol di ng hi m. But hi s eyes wer e str ange and di st ant, as was t he ti ny s mil e pl ayi ng
about his mouth.
The elevator doors opened behind him. She remembered standing in the nave of the Institute, saying “I love you”
t o a cl osed el evat or door. The gap ya wned behi nd hi m no w, as bl ack as t he mout h of a cave. She f elt f or t he st el e
i n her pocket; it was gone.
“ You knocked me out,” she sai d. “ Wit h a r une. You br ought me her e. Why? ”
Hi s beautif ul f ace was entir el y, car ef ull y bl ank. “I had t o do it. I di dn’t have a choi ce.”
She t ur ned and r an t hen, goi ng f or t he door, but he was f ast er t han she was. He al ways had been. He s wung i n
fr ont of her, bl ocki ng her pat h, and hel d out hi s hands. “ Cl ary, don’t r un,” he sai d. “ Pl ease. For me.”
She l ooked at hi m i ncr edul ousl y. Hi s voi ce was t he sa me —he sounded j ust li ke Jace, but not li ke hi m—li ke a
r ecor di ng of hi m, she t hought, all t he t ones and patt er ns of hi s voi ce t her e, but t he lif e t hat ani mat ed it gone. Ho w
had she not r eali zed it bef or e? She had t hought he sounded r e mot e because of str ess and pai n, but no. It was t hat
he was gone. Her st o mach t ur ned over, and she bolt ed f or t he door agai n, onl y t o have hi m cat ch her ar ound t he
wai st and s wi ng her back t o war d hi m. She pushed at hi m, her fi ngers l ocki ng i nt o t he f abri c of hi s shirt, ri ppi ng it
sideways.
She fr oze, st ari ng. On t he ski n of hi s chest, j ust over hi s heart, was a r une.
It wasn’t one she had ever seen bef or e. It wasn’t bl ack, li ke Shado whunt er r unes wer e, but dark r ed, t he col or of
bl ood. And it l acked t he deli cat e gr ace of t he r unes fr o m t he Gr ay Book. It was scr a wli ng, ugl y, it s li nes shar p and
cruel rather than curving and generous.
Jace di dn’t see m t o see it. He st ar ed do wn at hi mself as if wonderi ng what she was gazi ng at, t hen l ooked at her,
puzzl ed. “It’ s all ri ght. You di dn’t hurt me.”
“ That r une —,” she began, but cut herself off, har d. Maybe he di dn’t kno w it was t her e. “ Let me go, Jace,” she sai d
i nst ead, backi ng a way fr o m hi m. “ You don’t have t o do t hi s.”
“ You’r e wr ong about t hat,” he sai d, and r eached f or her agai n.
Thi s ti me she di dn’t fi ght. What woul d happen even if she escaped? She coul dn’t j ust l eave hi m her e. Jace was
still t her e, she t hought, tr apped so me wher e behi nd t hose bl ank eyes, maybe scr ea mi ng f or her. She had t o st ay
wit h hi m. Had t o kno w what was happeni ng. She l et hi m pi ck her up and carry her i nt o t he el evat or.
“ The Sil ent Br ot hers will noti ce you l eft,” she sai d, as t he butt ons f or fl oor aft er fl oor lit up whil e t he el evat or r ose.
“They’ll alert the Clave. They’ll come looking—”
“I need not f ear t he Br ot hers. I wasn’t a pri soner; t hey wer en’t expecti ng me t o want t o l eave. They won’t noti ce I’ m
gone until t hey wake up t o morr o w mor ni ng.”
“ What if t hey wake up earli er t han t hat ?”
“ Oh,” he sai d, wit h a col d cert ai nl y, “t hey won’t. It’ s much mor e li kel y t he ot her part ygoers at t he Ir onworks will
noti ce you’r e mi ssi ng. But what can t hey do about it ? They’ll have no i dea wher e you went, and Tr acki ng t o t hi s
buil di ng i s bl ocked.” He str oked her hair back fr o m her f ace, and she went still. “ You’r e j ust goi ng t o have t o tr ust
me. No one’ s co mi ng f or you.”
He di dn’t bri ng t he knif e out until t hey l eft t he el evat or, and t hen he sai d, “I woul d never hurt you. You kno w t hat,
don’t you?” even as he fli cked her hair back wit h t he ti p of t he bl ade and pr essed t he edge t o her t hr oat. The i cy
air hit her bar e shoul ders and ar ms as soon as t hey wer e out on t he r oof. Jace’ s hands wer e war m wher e he
t ouched her, and she coul d f eel t he heat of hi m t hr ough her t hi n dr ess, but it di dn’t war m her, not i nsi de. I nsi de she
was fill ed wit h j agged sli vers of i ce.
She grew colder still when she saw Simon, looking at her with his huge dark eyes. His face looked scrubbed
bl ank wit h shock, li ke a whit e pi ece of paper. He was l ooki ng at her, and Jace behi nd her, as if he wer e seei ng
so met hi ng f unda ment all y wr ong, a person wit h t heir f ace t ur ned i nsi de- out, a map of t he worl d wit h all t he l and
gone and not hi ng l eft but ocean.
She bar el y l ooked at t he wo man besi de hi m, wit h her dark hair and her t hi n, cr uel f ace. Cl ary’ s gaze had gone
i mmedi at el y t o t he tr anspar ent coffi n on it s pedest al of st one. It see med t o gl o w fr o m wit hi n, as if lit by a mil ky
i nner li ght. The wat er t hat Jonat han was fl oati ng i n was pr obabl y not wat er but so me ot her, l ess nat ur al li qui d.
Nor mal Cl ary, she t hought di spassi onat el y, woul d have scr ea med at t he si ght of her br ot her, fl oati ng still and
dead-l ooki ng and t ot all y un movi ng i n what l ooked li ke Sno w Whit e’ s gl ass coffi n. But fr ozen Cl ary j ust st ar ed wit h
a r e mot e and di st ant shock.
Li ps as r ed as bl ood, ski n as whit e as sno w, hair as bl ack as ebony. Well, so me of t hat was tr ue. When she had
met Sebasti an, hi s hair had been bl ack, but it was whit e-sil ver no w, fl oati ng ar ound hi s head li ke al bi no sea weed.
The sa me col or as hi s f at her’ s hairT. heir f at her’ s hair. Hi s ski n was so pal e it l ooked as if it coul d be made up of
l u mi nous cryst al s. But hi s li ps wer e col orl ess t oo, as wer e t he li ds of hi s eyes.
“ Thank you, Jace,” t he wo man t hat Jace had call ed Lady Lilit h sai d. “ Ni cel y done, and very pr o mpt. I t hought I was
goi ng t o have diffi culti es wit h you at first, but it appears I worri ed f or not hi ng.”
Cl ary st ar ed. Though t he wo man di d not l ook f a mili ar, her voi ce was f a mili ar. She had hear d t hat voi ce bef or e. But
wher e? She tri ed t o pull a way fr o m Jace, but hi s gri p on her onl y ti ght ened. The edge of t he knif e ki ssed her
t hr oat. An acci dent, she t ol d herself. Jace —even t hi s Jace —woul d never hurt her.
“ You,” she sai d t o Lilit h bet ween her t eet h. “ What have you done t o Jace?”
“Valentine’s daughter speaks.” The dark-haired woman smiled. “Simon? Would you like to explain?”
Si mon l ooked li ke he was goi ng t o t hr o w up. “I have no i dea.” He sounded as if he wer e choki ng. “ Beli eve me, you
t wo wer e t he l ast t hi ng I expect ed t o see.”
“ The Sil ent Br ot hers sai d t hat a de mon was r esponsi bl e f or what’ s been happeni ng wit h Jace,” Cl ary sai d, and
sa w Si mon l ook mor e baffl ed t han ever. The wo man, t hough, j ust wat ched her wit h eyes li ke fl at obsi di an circl es.
“ That de mon was you, wasn’t it ? But why Jace? What do you want fr o m us?”
“‘ Us’ ?” Lilit h peal ed wit h l aught er. “ As if you matt er ed i n t hi s, my girl. Why you? Because you ar e a means t o an
end. Because I needed both these boys, and both of them love you. Because Jace Herondale is the one person
you tr ust mor e t han anyone el se i n t he worl d. And you ar e so meone t he Dayli ght er l oves enough t o gi ve up hi s o wn
life for. Perhaps you cannot be har med,” she sai d, t ur ni ng t o Si mon. “ But she can be. Ar e you so st ubbor n t hat you
will sit back and wat ch Jace cut her t hr oat r at her t han gi ve up your bl ood?”
Si mon, l ooki ng li ke deat h it self, shook hi s head sl o wl y, but bef or e he coul d speak, Cl ary sai d, “ Si mon, no! Don’t
do it, what ever it i s. Jace woul dn’t hurt me.”
The wo man’ s f at ho ml ess eyes t ur ned t o Jace. She s mil ed. “ Cut her,” she sai d. “Just a littl e.”
Cl ary f elt Jace’ s shoul ders t ense, t he way t hey had i n t he park when he’ d been sho wi ng her ho w t o fi ght. She f elt
so met hi ng at her t hr oat, li ke a sti ngi ng ki ss, col d and hot at once, and f elt a war m tri ckl e of li qui d spill do wn ont o
her collarbone. Simon’s eyes widened.
He had cut her. He had act uall y done it. She t hought of Jace cr ouched on t he fl oor of t he bedr oo m at t he I nstit ut e,
hi s pai n cl ear i n every li ne of hi s body. I dr ea m t hat you co me i nt o my r oo m. And t hen I hurt you. I cut you or
str angl e or st ab you, and you di e, l ooki ng up at me wit h t hose gr een eyes of yours whil e your lif e bl eeds a way
between my hands.
She had not beli eved hi m. Not r eall y. He was Jace. He woul d never hurt her. She l ooked do wn and sa w t he bl ood
st ai ni ng t he neckli ne of her dr ess. It l ooked li ke r ed pai nt.
“ You see no w,” sai d t he wo man. “ He does what I t ell hi m. Don’t bl a me hi m f or it. He i s co mpl et el y wit hi n my po wer.
For weeks I have cr ept t hr ough hi s head, seei ng hi s dr ea ms, l ear ni ng hi s f ears and want s, hi s guilt s and desir es.
I n a dr ea m he accept ed my Mark, and t hat Mark has been bur ni ng t hr ough hi m ever si nce —t hr ough hi s ski n, do wn
i nt o hi s soul. No w hi s soul i s i n my hands, t o shape or dir ect as I see fit. He will do what ever I say.”
Cl ary r e me mber ed what t he Sil ent Br ot hers had sai d. When a Shado whunt er i s bor n, a rit ual i s perf or med, a
nu mber of pr ot ecti ve spell s pl aced upon t he chil d by bot h t he Sil ent Br ot hers and t he Ir on Si st ers. When Jace di ed
and t hen was r ai sed, he was bor n a second ti me, wit h t hose pr ot ecti ons and rit ual s stri pped a way. It woul d have
left him as open as an unlocked door—open to any kind of demonic influence or malevolence.
I di d t hi s, Cl ary t hought. I br ought hi m back, and I want ed it kept secr et. If we had onl y t ol d so meone what had
happened, maybe t he rit ual coul d have been done i n ti me t o keep Lilit h out of hi s head. She f elt si ck wit h selfl
oat hi ng. Behi nd her Jace was sil ent, as still as a st at ue, hi s ar ms ar ound her and t he knif e still at her t hr oat. She
coul d f eel it agai nst her ski n when she t ook a br eat h t o speak, keepi ng her voi ce even wit h an eff ort. “I underst and
t hat you contr ol Jace,” she sai d. “I don’t underst and why . Sur el y t her e ar e ot her, easi er ways t o t hr eat en me.”
Lilit h si ghed as if t he whol e busi ness had gr o wn t edi ous. “I need you,” she sai d, wit h exagger at ed pati ence, “t o get
Si mon t o do what I want, whi ch i s gi ve me hi s bl ood. And I need Jace not j ust because I needed a way t o get you
her e, but as a count er wei ght. All t hi ngs i n magi c must bal ance, Cl ari ssa.” She poi nt ed at t he r ough bl ack circl e
dr a wn on t he til es, and t hen at Jace. “ He was t he first. The first t o be br ought back, t he first soul r est or ed t o t hi s
worl d i n t he na me of Li ght. Ther ef or e he must be pr esent f or me t o successf ull y r est or e t he second, i n t he na me of
t he Dark. Do you underst and no w, sill y girl ? We ar e all needed her e. Si mon t o di e. Jace t o li ve. Jonat han t o r et ur n.
And you, Val enti ne’ s daught er, t o be t he cat al yst f or it all.”
The de mon wo man’ s voi ce had dr opped t o a l o w chant. Wit h a shock of sur pri se Cl ary r eali zed t hat she no w kne w
wher e she had hear d it bef or e. She sa w her f at her, st andi ng i nsi de a pent agr a m, a bl ack- hair ed wo man wit h
t ent acl es f or eyes kneeli ng at hi s f eet. The wo man sai d, The chil d bor n wit h t hi s bl ood i n hi m will exceed i n po wer
t he Gr eat er De mons of t he abysses bet ween t he worl ds. But it will bur n out hi s hu manit y, as poi son bur ns t he lif e
fr o m t he bl ood.
“I kno w,” Cl ary sai d t hr ough stiff li ps. “I kno w who you ar e. I sa w you cut your wri st and dri p bl ood i nt o a cup f or my
f at her. The angel It huri el sho wed it t o me i n a vi si on.”
Si mon’ s eyes dart ed back and f ort h bet ween Cl ary and t he wo man, whose dark eyes hel d a hi nt of sur pri se. Cl ary
guessed she di dn’t sur pri se easil y. “I sa w my f at her su mmon you. I kno w what he call ed you. My Lady of Edom.
You’r e a Gr eat er De mon. You gave your bl ood t o make my br ot her what he i s. You t ur ned hi m i nt o a —a horri bl e
thing . If it wer en’t f or you —”
“ Yes. All t hat i s tr ue. I gave my bl ood t o Val enti ne Mor genst er n, and he put it i n hi s baby boy, and t hi s i s t he r esult.”
The wo man pl aced her hand gentl y, al most as a car ess, agai nst t he gl ass surf ace of Sebasti an’ s coffi n. Ther e
was t he oddest s mil e on her f ace. “ You mi ght al most say t hat, i n a way, I a m Jonat han’ s mot her.”
“I told you that address didn’t mean anything,” Alec said.
Isabell e i gnor ed hi m. The mo ment t hey had st epped t hr ough t he doors of t he buil di ng, t he r uby pendant ar ound her
neck had pul sed, f ai ntl y, li ke t he beat of a di st ant heart. That meant de moni c pr esence. Under ot her
circu mst ances she woul d have expect ed her br ot her t o sense t he weir dness of t he pl ace j ust li ke she di d, but he
was cl earl y t oo sunk i n gl oo m about Magnus t o concentr at e.
“ Get your wit chli ght,” she sai d t o hi m. “I l eft mi ne at ho me.”
He shot her an irrit at ed l ook. It was dark i n t he l obby, dark enough t hat a nor mal hu man woul dn’t have been abl e t o
see. Maia and Jordan both had the excellent night vision of werewolves. They were standing at opposite ends of
the room, Jordan examining the big marble lobby desk, and Maia leaning against the far wall, apparently
examining her rings. “You’re supposed to bring it with you everywhere,” Alec replied.
“ Oh? Di d you bri ng your Sensor ?” she snapped. “I di dn’t t hi nk so. At l east I have t hi s.” She t apped t he pendant. “I
can t ell you t hat t her e’ss omething her e. So met hi ng de moni c.”
Jordan’s head snapped around. “There are demons here?”
“I don’t kno w —maybe onl y one. It pul sed and f aded,” Isabell e ad mitt ed. “ But it’ s t oo bi g a coi nci dence f or t hi s j ust
t o have been t he wr ong addr ess. We have t o check it out.”
A dim light rose up all around her. She looked over and saw Al ec hol di ng up hi s wit chli ght, it s bl aze cont ai ned by
hi s fi ngers. It t hr e w str ange shado ws acr oss hi s f ace, maki ng hi m l ook ol der t han he was, hi s eyes a darker bl ue.
“ So l et’ s get goi ng,” he sai d. “ We’ll t ake it one fl oor at a ti me.”
They moved toward the elevator, Alec first, then Isabelle, Jordan and Maia dropping into line behind them.
Isabelle’s boots had Soundless runes carved into the soles, but Maia’s heels clicked on the marble floor as she
wal ked. Fr o wni ng, she paused t o di scar d t he m, and went bar ef oot t he r est of t he way. As Mai a st epped i nt o t he
el evat or, Isabell e noti ced t hat she wor e a gol d ri ng ar ound her l eft bi g t oe, set wit h a t ur quoi se st one.
Jor dan, gl anci ng do wn at her f eet, sai d i n a sur pri sed t one, “I r e me mber t hat ri ng. I bought t hat f or you at —”
“ Shut up,” Mai a sai d, hitti ng t he door cl ose butt on. The doors sli d shut as Jor dan l apsed i nt o sil ence.
They paused at every fl oor. Most wer e still under constr ucti on —t her e wer e no li ght s, and wir es hung do wn fr o m t he
ceili ngs li ke vi nes. Wi ndo ws had pl y wood nail ed over t he m. Dr op cl ot hs bl e w i n t he f ai nt wi nd li ke ghost s. Isabell e
kept a fir m hand on her pendant, but not hi ng happened until t hey r eached t he t ent h fl oor. As t he doors opened,
she f elt a fl utt er agai nst t he i nsi de of her cupped pal m, as if she had been hol di ng a ti ny bir d t her e and it had
beat en it s wi ngs.
She spoke in a whisper. “There’s something here.”
Alec just nodded; Jordan opened his mouth to say something, but Maia elbowed him, hard. Isabelle slipped past
her br ot her, i nt o t he hall out si de t he el evat ors. The r uby was pul si ng and vi br ati ng agai nst her hand no w li ke a
distressed insect.
Behind her, Alec whispered, “Sandalphon .”Li ght bl azed up ar ound Isabell e, ill u mi nati ng t he hall. Unli ke so me of
t he ot her fl oors t hey had seen, t hi s one see med at l east partl y fi ni shed. Bar e gr anit e wall s r ose ar ound her, and
t he fl oor was s moot h bl ack til e. A corri dor l ed i n t wo dir ecti ons. One ended i n a heap of constr ucti on equi p ment
and tangled wires. The other ended in an archway. Beyond the archway, black space beckoned.
Isabell e t ur ned t o l ook back at her co mpani ons. Al ec had put a way hi s wit chli ght st one and was hol di ng a bl azi ng
seraph blade, lighting the interior of the elevator like a lantern. Jordan had produced a large, brutal-looking knife
and was gri ppi ng it i n hi s ri ght hand. Mai a see med t o be i n t he pr ocess of putti ng her hair up; when she l o wer ed
her hands, she was hol di ng a l ong, r azor-ti pped pi n. Her nail s had gr o wn, t oo, and her eyes hel d a f er al, gr eeni sh
gleam.
“ Foll o w me,” Isabell e sai d. “ Qui etl y.”
Tap, t ap went t he r uby agai nst Isabell e’ s t hr oat as she went do wn t he hall, li ke t he pr oddi ng of an i nsi st ent fi nger.
She di dn’t hear t he r est of t he m behi nd her, but she kne w t hey wer e t her e fr o m t he l ong shado ws cast agai nst t he
dark gr anit e wall s. Her t hr oat was ti ght, her nerves si ngi ng, t he way t hey al ways di d bef or e she wal ked i nt o battl e.
Thi s was t he part she li ked l east, t he anti ci pati on bef or e t he r el ease of vi ol ence. Duri ng a fi ght not hi ng matt er ed
but t he fi ght it self; no w she had t o str uggl e t o keep her mi nd on t he t ask at hand.
The archway loomed above them. It was carved marble, oddly old-fashioned for such a modern building, its sides
decor at ed wit h scr oll work. Isabell e gl anced up bri efl y as she passed t hr ough, and al most st art ed. The f ace of a
gri nni ng gar goyl e was carved i nt o t he st one, l eeri ng do wn at her. She made a f ace at it and t ur ned t o l ook at t he
room she had entered.
It was vast, hi gh-ceili nged, cl earl y meant t o so meday be a f ull l oft apart ment. The wall s wer e fl oor-t o-ceili ng
wi ndo ws, gi vi ng out ont o a vi e w of t he East Ri ver wit h Queens i n t he di st ance, t he Coca- Col a si gn fl ashi ng bl oodr
ed and navy bl ue do wn ont o t he bl ack wat er. The li ght s of surr oundi ng buil di ngs hover ed glitt eri ng i n t he ni ght air
li ke ti nsel on a Chri st mas tr ee. The r oo m it self was dark, and f ull of odd, hu mped shado ws, spaced at r egul ar
i nt erval s, l o w t o t he gr ound. Isabell e squi nt ed, puzzl ed. They wer en’t ani mat e; t hey appear ed t o be chunks of
squar e, bl ocky f ur nit ur e, but what —?
“ Al ec,” she sai d softl y. Her pendant was writ hi ng as if ali ve, it s r uby heart pai nf ull y hot agai nst her ski n.
I n a mo ment her br ot her was besi de her. He r ai sed hi s bl ade, and t he r oo m was f ull of li ght. Isabell e’ s hand fl e w t o
her mout h. “ Oh, dear God,” she whi sper ed. “ Oh, by t he Angel, no.”
“ You’r e not hi s mot her.” Si mon’ s voi ce cr acked as he sai d it; Lilit h di dn’t even t ur n t o l ook at hi m. She still had her
hands on t he gl ass coffi n. Sebasti an fl oat ed i nsi de it, sil ent and una war e. Hi s f eet wer e bar e, Si mon noti ced. “ He
has a mot her. Cl ary’ s mot her. Cl ary’ s hi s si st er. Sebasti an —Jonat han —won’t be t oo pl eased if you hurt her.”
Lilit h l ooked up at t hat, and l aughed. “ A br ave att e mpt, Dayli ght er,” she sai d. “ But I kno w bett er. I sa w my son gr o w
up, you kno w. Oft en I vi sit ed hi m i n t he f or m of an o wl. I sa w ho w t he wo man who had gi ven birt h t o hi m hat ed hi m.
He has no l ove l ost f or her, nor shoul d he, nor does he car e f or hi s si st er. He i s mor e li ke me t han he i s li ke
Jocel yn Mor genst er n.” Her dark eyes moved fr o m Si mon t o Jace and Cl ary. They had not moved, not r eall y. Cl ary
still st ood i n t he circl e of Jace’ s ar ms, wit h t he knif e near her t hr oat. He hel d it easil y, car el essl y, as if he wer e
barely paying attention. But Simon knew how quickly Jace’s seeming uninterest could explode into violent action.
“Jace,” sai d Lilit h. “ St ep i nt o t he circl e. Bri ng t he girl wit h you.”
Obedi entl y Jace moved f or war d, pushi ng Cl ary ahead of hi m. As t hey cr ossed t he barri er of t he bl ack- pai nt ed
li ne, t he r unes i nsi de t he li ne fl ashed a sudden, brilli ant r ed —and so met hi ng el se lit as well. A r une on t he l eft si de
of Jace’ s chest, j ust above hi s heart, gl o wed suddenl y, wit h such bri ght ness t hat Si mon cl osed hi s eyes. Even wit h
hi s eyes cl osed, he coul d still see t he r une, a vi ci ous s wirl of angry li nes, pri nt ed agai nst t he i nsi de of hi s eyeli ds.
“ Open your eyes, Dayli ght er,” Lilit h snapped. “ The ti me has co me. Will you gi ve me your bl ood, or will you r ef use?
You kno w t he pri ce if you do.”
Si mon l ooked do wn at Sebasti an i n hi s coffi n —and di d a doubl e t ake. A r une t hat was t he t wi n of t he one t hat had
j ust fl ashed on Jace’ s chest was vi si bl e on hi s bar e chest as well, j ust begi nni ng t o f ade as Si mon st ar ed do wn at
hi m. I n a mo ment it was gone, and Sebasti an was still and whit e agai n. Un movi ng. Unbr eat hi ng.
Dead.
“I can’t bri ng hi m back f or you,” Si mon sai d. “ He’ s dead. I’ d gi ve you my bl ood, but he can’t s wall o w it.”
Her br eat h hi ssed t hr ough her t eet h i n exasper ati on, and f or a mo ment her eyes gl o wed wit h a harsh aci di c li ght.
“ First you must bit e hi m,” she sai d. “ You ar e a Daylighter. Angel blood runs through your body, through your blood
and t ears, t hr ough t he fl ui d i n your f angs. Your Dayli ght er bl ood will r evi ve hi m enough t hat he can s wall o w and
dri nk. Bit e hi m and gi ve hi m your bl ood, and bri ng hi m back t o me.”
Si mon st ar ed at her wil dl y. “ But what you’r e sayi ng —you’r e sayi ng I have t he po wer t o bri ng back t he dead?”
“ Si nce you’ ve been a Dayli ght er you’ ve had t hat po wer,” she sai d. “ But not t he ri ght t o use it.”
“The right?”
She s mil ed, tr aci ng t he ti p of one l ong r ed- pai nt ed nail acr oss t he t op of Sebasti an’ s coffi n. “ Hi st ory i s writt en by
t he wi nners, t hey say,” she sai d. “ Ther e mi ght not be so much of a diff er ence bet ween t he si de of Li ght and t he
si de of Dark as you suppose. Aft er all, wit hout t he Dark, t her e i s not hi ng f or t he Li ght t o bur n a way.”
Simon looked at her blankly.
“ Bal ance,” she cl arifi ed. “ Ther e ar e l a ws ol der t han any you can i magi ne. And one of t he m i s t hat you cannot bri ng
back what i s dead. When t he soul has l eft t he body, it bel ongs t o deat h. And it cannot be t aken back wit hout a
pri ce t o pay.”
“ And you’r e willi ng t o pay it ? Fohir m ?” Simon gestured toward Sebastian.
“ He is t he pri ce.” She t hr e w her head back and l aughed. It sounded al most li ke hu man l aught er. “If t he Li ght bri ngs
back a soul, t hen t he Dark has t he ri ght t o bri ng one back as well. Thi s i s my ri ght. Or per haps you shoul d ask your
littl e fri end Cl ary what I’ m t al ki ng about.”
Si mon l ooked at Cl ary. She l ooked as if she mi ght pass out. “ Razi el,” she sai d f ai ntl y. “ When Jace di ed —”
“Jace died?” Simon’s voice went up an octave. Jace, despite being the subject under discussion, remained
serene and expressionless, his knife hand steady.
“ Val enti ne st abbed hi m,” Cl ary sai d i n an al most- whi sper. “ And t hen t he Angel kill ed Val enti ne, and he sai d I coul d
have anyt hi ng I want ed. And I sai d I want ed Jace back, I want ed hi m back, and he br ought hi m back —f or me.” Her
eyes wer e huge i n her s mall whit e f ace. “ He was dead f or onl y a f e w mi nut es . . . har dl y any ti me at all . . .”
“It was enough,” br eat hed Lilit h. “I was hoveri ng near my son duri ng hi s battl e wit h Jace; I sa w hi m f all and di e. I
f oll o wed Jace t o t he l ake, I wat ched as Val enti ne sl e w hi m, and t hen as t he Angel r ai sed hi m agai n. I kne w t hat
was my chance. I r aced back t o t he ri ver and t ook my son’ s body fr o m it. . . . I kept it pr eserved f or j ust t hi s
mo ment.” She l ooked f ondl y do wn at t he coffi n. “ Everyt hi ng i n bal ance. An eye f or an eye. A t oot h f or a t oot h. A lif e
f or a lif e. Jace i s t he count er wei ght. If Jace li ves, t hen so shall Jonat han.”
Si mon coul dn’t t ear hi s eyes a way fr o m Cl ary. “ What she’ s sayi ng —about t he Angel —it’ s tr ue?” he sai d. “ And you
never told anyone?”
To hi s sur pri se it was Jace who ans wer ed. Br ushi ng hi s cheek agai nst Cl ary’ s hair, he sai d, “It was our secr et.”
Clary’s green eyes flashed, but she didn’t move.
“ So you see, Dayli ght er,” sai d Lilit h, “I a m onl y t aki ng what i s mi ne by ri ght. The La w says t hat t he one who was
first br ought back must be her e i n t he circl e when t he second i s r et ur ned.” She i ndi cat ed Jace wit h a
cont e mpt uous fli ck of her fi nger. “ He i s her e. You ar e her e. All i s i n r eadi ness.”
“ Then you don’t need Cl ary,” sai d Si mon. “ Leave her out of it. Let her go.”
“ Of course I need her. I need her t o moti vat e you. I cannot hurt you, Mark- bear er, or t hr eat en you, or kill you. But I
can cut out your heart when I cut out her lif e. And I will.”
She looked toward Clary, and Simon’s gaze followed hers.
Cl ary. She was so pal e t hat she l ooked al most bl ue, t hough per haps t hat was t he col d. Her gr een eyes wer e vast
i n her pal e f ace. A tri ckl e of dryi ng bl ood spill ed fr o m her coll ar bone t o t he neckli ne of her dr ess, no w spott ed wit h
r ed. Her hands hung at her si des, l oose, but t hey wer e shaki ng.
Si mon sa w her as she was, but al so as she had been when she was seven years ol d, ski nny ar ms and fr eckl es
and t hose bl ue pl asti c barr ett es she’ d wor n i n her hair until she was el even. He t hought of t he first ti me he’ d
noticed she had a real girl’s shape under the baggy T-shirt and jeans she always wore, and how he hadn’t been
sur e if he shoul d l ook or l ook a way. He t hought of her l augh and her qui ck pencil movi ng acr oss a page, l eavi ng
intricately designed images behind: spired castles, running horses, brightly colored characters she’d made up in
her head. You can wal k t o school by yourself, her mot her had sai d, but onl y if Si mon goes wit h you. He t hought of
her hand i n hi s when t hey cr ossed t he str eet, and hi s o wn sense of t he a weso me t ask t hat he had undert aken: t he
r esponsi bilit y f or her saf et y.
He had been i n l ove wit h her once, and maybe so me part of hi m al ways woul d be, because she had been hi s first.
But t hat wasn’t what matt er ed no w. She was Cl ary; she was part of hi m; she al ways had been and woul d be
f or ever. As he st ar ed at her, she shook her head, very sli ghtl y. He kne w what she was sayi ng. Don’t do it. Don’t
gi ve her what she want s. Let what ever happens t o me happen.
He st epped i nt o t he circl e; as hi s f eet passed over t he pai nt ed li ne, he f elt a shi ver, li ke an el ectri c shock, go
t hr ough hi m. “ All ri ght,” he sai d. “I’ll do it.”
“ No!” Cl ary cri ed, but Si mon di dn’t l ook at her. He was wat chi ng Lilit h, who s mil ed a cool, gl oati ng s mil e as she
r ai sed her l eft hand and passed it acr oss t he surf ace of t he coffi n.
The li d of it vani shed, peeli ng back i n a way t hat r e mi nded Si mon bi zarr el y of peeli ng back t he li d of a ti n of
sar di nes. As t he t op l ayer of gl ass pull ed a way, it melt ed and r an, dri ppi ng do wn t he si des of t he gr anit e pedest al,
cryst alli zi ng i nt o ti ny shar ds of gl ass as t he dr ops str uck t he gr ound.
The coffi n was open no w, li ke a fi sh t ank; Sebasti an’ s body drift ed i nsi de, and Si mon t hought he coul d once agai n
see t he fl ash of t he r une on hi s chest as Lilit h r eached i nt o t he t ank. As Si mon wat ched, she t ook Sebasti an’ s
dangling arms and crossed them over his chest with an oddly tender gesture, tucking the bandaged one under the
one t hat was whol e. She br ushed a l ock of hi s wet hair a way fr o m hi s still, whit e f or ehead, and st epped back,
shaki ng mil ky wat er fr o m her hands.
“ To your work, Dayli ght er,” she sai d.
Si mon moved t o war d t he coffi n. Sebasti an’ s f ace was sl ack, hi s eyeli ds still. No pul se beat i n hi s t hr oat. Si mon
remembered how much he had wanted to drink Maureen’s blood. How he had craved the feeling of his teeth
si nki ng i nt o her ski n and fr eei ng t he salt y bl ood beneat h. But t hi s —t hi s was f eedi ng off a cor pse. The very t hought
made hi s st o mach t ur n.
Though he wasn’t l ooki ng at her, he was a war e of Cl ary wat chi ng hi m. He coul d f eel her br eat h as he bent over
Sebasti an. He coul d sense Jace, t oo, wat chi ng hi m out of bl ank eyes. Reachi ng i nt o t he coffi n, he cl osed hi s
hands ar ound Sebasti an’ s col d, sli ppery shoul ders. Biti ng back t he ur ge t o be si ck, he bent and sank hi s t eet h
i nt o Sebasti an’ s t hr oat. Bl ack de mon bl ood pour ed i nt o hi s mout h, as bitt er as poi son.
* * *
Isabelle moved silently among the stone pedestals. Alec was with her, Sandalphon in his hand, sending light
winging through the room. Maia was in one corner of the room, bent over and retching, her hand braced against
t he wall; Jor dan hover ed over her, l ooki ng as if he want ed t o r each out and str oke her back, but was afr ai d of
being rebuffed.
Isabell e di dn’t bl a me Mai a f or t hr o wi ng up. If she hadn’t had years of tr ai ni ng, she woul d have t hr o wn up herself.
She had never seen anyt hi ng li ke what she was l ooki ng at no w. Ther e wer e dozens, maybe fift y, of t he st one
pedestals in the room. Atop each one was a low crib-like basket. Inside each basket was a baby. And every one
of the babies was dead.
She had hel d out hope at first, as she wal ked up and do wn t he r o ws, t hat she mi ght fi nd one ali ve. But t hese
chil dr en had been dead f or so me ti me. Their ski n was gr ay, t heir s mall f aces br ui sed and di scol or ed. They wer e
wr apped i n t hi n bl anket s, and t hough it was col d i n t he r oo m, Isabell e di dn’t t hi nk it was col d enough f or t he m t o
have fr ozen t o deat h. She wasn’t sur e ho w t hey had di ed; she coul dn’t bear t o i nvesti gat e t oo cl osel y. Thi s was
cl earl y a matt er f or t he Cl ave.
Al ec, behi nd her, had t ears r unni ng do wn hi s f ace; he was cursi ng under hi s br eat h by t he ti me t hey r eached t he
last of the pedestals. Maia had straightened up and was leaning against the window; Jordan had given her some
ki nd of cl ot h, maybe a handkerchi ef, t o hol d t o her f ace. The col d whit e li ght s of t he cit y bur ned behi nd her, cutti ng
through the dark glass like diamond drills.
“Iz,” Al ec sai d. “ Who coul d have done so met hi ng li ke t hi s? Why would someone—even a demon—”
He br oke off. Isabell e kne w what he was t hi nki ng about. Max, when he had been bor n. She had been seven, Al ec
ni ne. They had bent over t heir littl e br ot her i n t he cr adl e, a mused and enchant ed by t hi s f asci nati ng ne w cr eat ur e.
They’ d pl ayed wit h hi s littl e fi ngers, l aughed at t he weir d f aces he made when t hey ti ckl ed hi m.
Her heart t wi st ed. Max. As she had moved do wn t he li nes of littl e cri bs, no w t ur ned i nt o littl e coffi ns, a sense of
over whel mi ng dr ead had begun t o pr ess do wn on her. She coul dn’t i gnor e t he f act t hat t he pendant ar ound her
neck was gl o wi ng wit h a harsh, st eady gl o w. The sort of gl o w she mi ght have expect ed if she wer e f aci ng do wn a
Gr eat er De mon.
She t hought of what Cl ary had seen i n t he mor gue i n Bet h Isr ael. He l ooked j ust li ke a nor mal baby. Except f or hi s
hands. They wer e t wi st ed i nt o cl a ws. . . .
Wit h gr eat car e she r eached i nt o one of t he cri bs. Car ef ul not t o t ouch t he baby, she t wit ched asi de t he t hi n
blanket that wrapped its body.
She f elt t he br eat h puff out of her i n a gasp. Or di nary chubby baby ar ms, r ound baby wri st s. The hands l ooked soft
and ne w. But t he fi ngers —t he fi ngers wer e t wi st ed i nt o cl a ws, as bl ack as bur ned bone, ti pped wit h shar p littl e
t al ons. She t ook an i nvol unt ary st ep back.
“ What ?” Mai a moved t o war d t he m. She still l ooked si ckened, but her voi ce was st eady. Jor dan f oll o wed her,
hands i n hi s pocket s. “ What di d you fi nd?” she asked.
“ By t he Angel.” Al ec, besi de Isabell e, was l ooki ng do wn i nt o t he cri b. “Is t hi s —li ke t he baby Cl ary was t elli ng you
about? The one at Beth Israel?”
Sl o wl y Isabell e nodded. “I guess it wasn’t j ust t he one baby,” she sai d. “ So meone’ s been tryi ng t o make a l ot mor e
of t he m. Mor e . . . Sebasti ans.”
“Why would anyone want moreh iofm ?” Alec’s voice was full of naked hatred.
“ He was f ast and str ong,” Isabell e sai d. It al most hurt physi call y t o say anyt hi ng co mpli ment ary about t he boy who
had kill ed her br ot her and tri ed t o kill her. “I guess t hey’r e tryi ng t o br eed a r ace of super- warri ors.”
“It di dn’t work.” Mai a’ s eyes wer e dark wit h sadness.
A noi se so soft it was al most i naudi bl e t eased at t he edge of Isabell e’ s heari ng. Her head j erked up, her hand
goi ng t o her belt, wher e her whi p was coil ed. So met hi ng i n t he t hi ck shado ws at t he edge of t he r oo m, near t he
door, moved, j ust t he f ai nt est fli cker, but Isabell e had alr eady br oken a way fr o m t he ot hers and was r unni ng f or t he
door. She burst out i nt o t he hall way near t he el evat ors. Ther e was something there—a shadow that had broken
free of the greater darkness and was moving, edging along the wall. Isabelle picked up speed and threw herself
f or war d, knocki ng t he shado w t o t he fl oor.
It wasn’t a ghost. As t hey went do wn t oget her i n a heap, Isabell e sur pri sed a very hu man-soundi ng gr unt of
sur pri se out of t he shado wy fi gur e. They hit t he gr ound t oget her and r oll ed. The fi gur e was defi nit el y hu man —sli ght
and shorter than Isabelle, wearing a gray warm-up suit and sneakers. Sharp elbows came up, jabbing into
Isabelle’s collarbone. A knee dug into her solar plexus. She gasped and rolled aside, feeling for her whip. By the
ti me she got it fr ee, t he fi gur e was on it s f eet. Isabell e r oll ed ont o her st o mach, fli cki ng t he whi p f or war d; t he end of
it coil ed ar ound t he str anger’ s ankl e and pull ed ti ght. Isabell e j erked t he whi p back, yanki ng t he fi gur e off it s f eet.
She scr a mbl ed t o her f eet, r eachi ng wit h her fr ee hand f or her st el e, whi ch was t ucked do wn t he fr ont of her dr ess.
Wit h a qui ck sl ash she fi ni shed t he nyx Mark on her l eft ar m. Her vi si on adj ust ed qui ckl y, t he whol e r oo m see mi ng
t o fill wit h li ght as t he ni ght vi si on r une t ook eff ect. She coul d see her att acker mor e cl earl y no w —a t hi n fi gur e i n a
gr ay war m- up suit and gr ay sneakers, scr a mbli ng back war d until it s back hit t he wall. The hood of t he suit had
f all en back, exposi ng t he f ace. The head was shaved cl eanl y bal d, but t he f ace was defi nit el y f e mal e, wit h shar p
cheekbones and big dark eyes.
“ St op it,” Isabell e sai d, and pull ed har d on t he whi p. The wo man cri ed out i n pai n. “ St op tryi ng t o cr a wl a way.”
The wo man bar ed her t eet h. “ Wor m,” she sai d. “ Unbeli ever. I will t ell you not hi ng.”
Isabell e j a mmed her st el e back i nt o her dr ess. “If I pull har d enough on t hi s whi p, it’ll cut t hr ough your l eg.” She
gave t he whi p anot her fli ck, ti ght eni ng it, and moved f or war d, until she was st andi ng i n fr ont of t he wo man, l ooki ng
do wn at her. “ Those babi es,” she sai d. “ What happened t o t he m?”
The wo man gave a bubbli ng l augh. “ They wer e not str ong enough. Weak st ock, t oo weak.”
“ Too weak f or what ?” When t he wo man di dn’t ans wer, Isabell e snapped, “ You can t ell me or l ose your l eg. Your
choi ce. Don’t t hi nk I won’t l et you bl eed t o deat h her e on t he fl oor. Chil d- mur der ers don’t deserve mercy.”
The wo man hi ssed, li ke a snake. “If you har m me, She will s mit e you do wn.”
“Who—” Isabelle broke off, remembering what Alec had said. Talt o i s anot her na me f or Lilit h. You mi ght say she’ s
the demon goddess of dead children. “ Lilit h,” she sai d. “ You worshi p Lilit h. You di d all t hi s . . . f or her ?”
“Isabell e.” It was Al ec, carryi ng t he li ght of Sandalphon before him. “What’s going on? Maia and Jordan are
searchi ng, l ooki ng f or any mor e . . . chil dr en, but it l ooks li ke t hey wer e all i n t he bi g r oo m. What’ s goi ng on her e?”
“ Thi s . . . person,” Isabell e sai d wit h di sgust, “i s a cult me mber of t he Church of Talt o. Appar entl y t hey worshi p
Lilit h. And t hey’ ve mur der ed all t hese babi es f or her.”
“ Not mur der!” The wo man str uggl ed upri ght. “ Not mur der. Sacrifi ce. They wer e t est ed and f ound weak. Not our
f ault.”
“Let me guess,” Isabelle said. “You tried injecting the pregnant women with demon blood. But demon blood is
t oxi c st uff. The babi es coul dn’t survi ve. They wer e bor n def or med, and t hen t hey di ed.”
The wo man whi mper ed. It was a very sli ght sound, but Isabell e sa w Al ec’ s eyes narr o w. He had al ways been t he
one of t he m t hat was best at r eadi ng peopl e.
“ One of t hose babi es,” he sai d. “It was yours. Ho w coul d you i nj ect your o wn chil d wit h de mon bl ood?”
The wo man’ s mout h tr e mbl ed. “I di dn’t. We wer e t he ones who t ook t he bl ood i nj ecti ons. The mot hers. Made us
str onger, f ast er. Our husbands, t oo. But we got si ck. Si cker and si cker. Our hair f ell out. Our nail s . . .” She r ai sed
her hands, sho wi ng t he bl ackened nail s, t he t or n, bl oody nail beds wher e so me had f all en a way. Her ar ms wer e
dott ed wit h bl acki sh br ui ses. “ We’r e all dyi ng,” she sai d. Ther e was a f ai nt sound of sati sf acti on i n her voi ce. “ We
will be dead in days.”
“ She made you t ake poi son,” Al ec sai d, “ and yet you worshi p her ?”
“ You don’t underst and.” The wo man sounded hoarse, dr ea my. “I had not hi ng bef or e She f ound me. None of us di d.
I was on t he str eet s. Sl eepi ng on sub way gr ati ngs so I woul dn’t fr eeze. Lilit h gave me a pl ace t o li ve, a f a mil y t o
t ake car e of me. Just t o be i n Her pr esence i s t o be saf e. I never f elt saf e bef or e.”
“ You’ ve seen Lilit h,” Isabell e sai d, str uggli ng t o keep t he di sbeli ef fr o m her voi ce. She was f a mili ar wit h de mon
cult s; she had done a r eport on t he m once, f or Hodge. He had gi ven her hi gh marks on it. Most cult s worshi pped
demons they had imagined or invented. Some managed to raise weak minor demons, who either killed them all
when set fr ee, or cont ent ed t he msel ves wit h bei ng served by t he cult me mbers, all t heir needs att ended t o, and
littl e asked of t he m i n r et ur n. She had never hear d of a cult who worshi pped a Gr eat er De mon i n whi ch t he
me mbers had ever act uall y seen t hat de mon i n t he fl esh. Much l ess a Gr eat er De mon as po werf ul as Lilit h, t he
mother of warlocks. “You’ve been in her presence?”
The wo man’ s eyes fl utt er ed half-shut. “ Yes. Wit h Her bl ood i n me I can f eel when She i s near. As She i s no w.”
Isabell e coul dn’t hel p it; her fr ee hand fl e w t o her pendant. It had been pul si ng on and off si nce t hey’ d ent er ed t he
building; she had assumed it was because of the demon blood in the dead children, but the presence nearby of a
Greater Demon would make even more sense. “She’s here? Where is she?”
The wo man see med t o be drifti ng off i nt o sl eep. “ Upst airs,” she sai d vaguel y. “ Wit h t he va mpir e boy. The one who
wal ks by day. She sent us t o f et ch hi m f or Her, but he was pr ot ect ed. We coul d not l ay hands on hi m. Those who
went t o fi nd hi m di ed. Then, when Br ot her Ada m r et ur ned and t ol d us t he boy was guar ded by hol y fir e, Lady Lilit h
was angry. She sl e w hi m wher e he st ood. He was l ucky, t o di e by Her hand, so l ucky.” Her br eat h r attl ed. “ And
She i s cl ever, Lady Lilit h. She f ound anot her way t o bri ng t he boy. . . .”
The whip dropped from Isabelle’s suddenly limp hand. “Simon? She brought Simon here? Why?”
“‘ None t hat go unt o Her,’” t he wo man br eat hed, “‘r et ur n agai n . . .’”
Isabell e dr opped t o her knees, sei zi ng up t he whi p. “ St op it,” she sai d i n a voi ce t hat shook. “ St op ya mmeri ng and
t ell me wher e he i s. Wher e di d she t ake hi m? Wher e i s Si mon? Tell me, or I’ll —”
“Isabell e.” Al ec spoke heavil y. “Iz, t her e’ s no poi nt. She’ s dead.”
Isabell e st ar ed at t he wo man i n di sbeli ef. She had di ed, it see med, bet ween one br eat h and t he next, her eyes
wi de open, her f ace set i n sl ack li nes. It was possi bl e t o see no w t hat beneat h t he st arvati on and t he bal dness and
t he br ui si ng, she had pr obabl y been quit e young, not mor e t han t went y. “ God da mn it.”
“I don’t get it,” Al ec sai d. “ What does a Gr eat er De mon want wit h Si mon? He’ s a va mpir e. Gr ant ed, a po werf ul
va mpir e, but —”
“ The Mark of Cai n,” Isabell e sai d di str act edl y. “ Thi s must have so met hi ng t o do wit h t he Mark. It’ s got t o.” She
moved t o war d t he el evat or and j abbed at t he call butt on. “If Lilit h was r eall y Ada m’ s first wif e, and Cai n was
Ada m’ s son, t hen t he Mark of Cai n i s nearl y as ol d as she i s.”
“Where are you going?”
“ She sai d t hey wer e upst airs,” Isabell e sai d. “I’ m goi ng t o search every fl oor until I fi nd hi m.”
“ She can’t hurt hi m, Izzy,” sai d Al ec i n t he r easonabl e voi ce Isabell e det est ed. “I kno w you’r e worri ed, but he’ s got
t he Mark of Cai n; he’ s unt ouchabl e. Even a Gr eat er De mon can’t har m hi m. No one can.”
Isabell e sco wl ed at her br ot her. “ So what do you t hi nk she want s hi m f or, t hen? So she’ll have so meone t o pi ck up
her dry cleaning during the day? Really, Alec—”
Ther e was a pi ng, and t he arr o w above t he f art hest el evat or lit up. Isabell e st art ed f or war d as t he doors began t o
open. Li ght fl ooded out . . . and aft er t he li ght, a wave of men and wo men —bal d, e maci at ed, and dr essed i n gr ay
tracksuits and sneakers—poured out. They were brandishing crude weapons culled from the debris of
constr ucti on: j agged shar ds of gl ass, t or n- off chunks of r ebar, concr et e bl ocks. None of t he m spoke. I n a sil ence
as total as it was eerie, they surged from the elevator as one, and advanced on Alec and Isabelle.
18
SCARS OF FI RE
Cl ouds had r oll ed i n over t he ri ver, t he way t hey so meti mes di d at ni ght, bri ngi ng a t hi ck mi st wit h t he m. It
di dn’t hi de what was happeni ng on t he r oof, j ust l ai d a sort of di mmi ng f og over everyt hi ng el se. The buil di ngs
ri si ng all ar ound t he m wer e murky pill ars of li ght, and t he moon gl o wed bar el y, a muffl ed l a mp, t hr ough t he l o w
scuddi ng cl ouds. The br oken bit s of t he gl ass coffi n, scatt er ed acr oss t he til ed gr ound, shone li ke shar ds of i ce,
and Lilit h, t oo, shone, pal e under t he moon, wat chi ng Si mon as he bent over Sebasti an’ s still body, dri nki ng hi s
blood.
Cl ary coul d har dl y bear t o wat ch. She kne w Si mon hat ed what he was doi ng; she kne w he was doi ng it f or her. For
her, and even, a littl e bit, f or Jace. And she kne w what t he next st ep i n t he rit ual woul d be. Si mon woul d gi ve up hi s
blood, willingly, to Sebastian, and Simon would die. Vampires could die when their blood was drained. He would
di e, and she woul d l ose hi m f or ever, and it woul d —all of it —be her o wn f ault.
She coul d f eel Jace behi nd her, hi s ar ms still ti ght ar ound her, t he soft, r egul ar beat of hi s heart agai nst her
shoulder blades. She remembered the way he had held her on the steps of the Accords Hall in Idris. The sound of
t he wi nd i n t he l eaves as he’ d ki ssed her, hi s hands war m on eit her si de of her f ace. The way she had f elt hi s heart
beati ng and t hought t hat no one el se’ s heart beat li ke hi s, li ke every pul se of hi s bl ood mat ched her o wn.
He had to be in there somewhere. Like Sebastian inside his glass prison. There had to be some way to reach
hi m.
Lilit h was wat chi ng Si mon as he bent over Sebasti an, her dark eyes wi de and fi xed. Cl ary and Jace mi ght as well
not have been t her e at all.
“Jace,” Cl ary whi sper ed. “Jace, I don’t want t o wat ch t hi s.”
She pr essed back agai nst hi m, as if she wer e tryi ng t o snuggl e i nt o hi s ar ms, t hen pr et ended a wi nce as t he knif e
br ushed t he si de of her t hr oat.
“ Pl ease, Jace,” she whi sper ed. “ You don’t need t he knif e. You kno w I can’t hurt you.”
“But why —”
“I j ust want t o l ook at you. I want t o see your f ace.”
She f elt hi s chest ri se and f all once, f ast. A shudder went t hr ough hi m, as if he wer e fi ghti ng so met hi ng, pushi ng
agai nst it. Then he moved, t he way onl y he coul d move, so s wiftl y it was li ke a fl ash of li ght. He kept hi s ri ght ar m
ti ght ar ound her; hi s l eft hand sli d t he knif e i nt o hi s belt.
Her heart l eaped wil dl y. I coul d r un, she t hought, but he woul d onl y cat ch her, and it was onl y a mo ment. Seconds
l at er bot h ar ms wer e ar ound her agai n, hi s hands on her ar ms, t ur ni ng her. She f elt hi s fi ngers tr ail over her back,
her bar e, shi veri ng ar ms, as he spun her t o f ace hi m.
She was l ooki ng a way fr o m Si mon no w, a way fr o m t he de mon wo man, t hough she coul d still f eel t heir pr esence at
her back, shi veri ng up her spi ne. She l ooked up at Jace. Hi s f ace was so f a mili ar. The li nes of it, t he way hi s hair
f ell acr oss hi s f or ehead, t he f ai nt scar over hi s cheekbone, anot her at hi s t e mpl e. Hi s eyel ashes a shade darker
t han hi s hair. Hi s eyes wer e t he col or of pal e yell o w gl ass. That was wher e he was diff er ent, she t hought. He still
l ooked li ke Jace, but hi s eyes wer e cl ear and bl ank, as if she wer e l ooki ng t hr ough a wi ndo w i nt o an e mpt y r oo m.
“I’ m afr ai d,” she sai d.
He str oked her shoul der, sendi ng sparks wi ngi ng t hr ough her nerves; wit h a f eeli ng of si ckness she r eali zed her
body still r esponded t o hi s t ouch. “I won’t l et anyt hi ng happen t o you.”
She st ar ed at hi m. You r eall y t hi nk t hat, don’t you? So meho w you can’t see t he di sconnect bet ween your acti ons
and your i nt enti ons. So meho w she’ s t aken t hat a way fr o m you .
“ You won’t be abl e t o st op her,” she sai d. “ She’ s goi ng t o kill me, Jace.”
He shook hi s head. “ No. She woul dn’t do t hat.”
Cl ary want ed t o scr ea m, but she kept her voi ce deli ber at e, car ef ul, cal m. “I kno w you’r e i n t her e, Jace. The r eal
you.” She pr essed cl oser t o hi m. The buckl e on hi s belt dug i nt o her wai st. “ You coul d fi ght her. . . .”
It had been t he wr ong t hi ng t o say. He t ensed all over, and she sa w a fl ash of angui sh i n hi s eyes, t he l ook of an
ani mal i n a tr ap. I n anot her i nst ant it had t ur ned t o har dness. “I can’t.”
She shi ver ed. The l ook on hi s f ace was a wf ul, so a wf ul. At her shudder hi s eyes soft ened. “ Ar e you col d?” he sai d,
and f or a mo ment he sounded li ke Jace agai n, concer ned about her well- bei ng. It made her t hr oat hurt.
She nodded, t hough physi cal col d was t he f urt hest t hi ng fr o m her mi nd. “ Can I put my hands i nsi de your j acket ?”
He nodded. Hi s j acket was unbutt oned; she sli d her ar ms i nsi de, her hands t ouchi ng hi s back li ghtl y. Everyt hi ng
was eeril y sil ent. The cit y see med fr ozen i nsi de an i cy pri s m. Even t he li ght r adi ati ng off t he buil di ngs ar ound t he m
was still and cold.
He br eat hed sl o wl y, st eadil y. She coul d see t he r une on hi s chest t hr ough t he t or n f abri c of hi s shirt. It see med t o
pul se when he br eat hed. It was si ckeni ng, she t hought, att ached t o hi m li ke t hat, li ke a l eech, sucki ng out what was
good, what was Jace.
She r e me mber ed what Luke had sai d t o her about destr oyi ng a r une. If you di sfi gur e it enough, you can mi ni mi ze
or destr oy it s po wer. So meti mes i n battl e t he ene my will try t o bur n or sli ce off a Shado whunt er’ s ski n, j ust t o
depri ve t he m of t he po wer of t heir r unes.
She kept her eyes fi xed on Jace’ s f ace. For get about what’ s happeni ng, she t hought. For get about Si mon, about
t he knif e at your t hr oat. What you say no w matt ers mor e t han anyt hi ng you’ ve ever sai d bef or e .
“Remember what you said to me in the park?” she whispered.
He l ooked do wn at her, st artl ed. “ What ?”
“ When I t ol d you I di dn’t speak It ali an. I r e me mber what you t ol d me, what t hat quot e meant. You sai d it meant l ove
i s t he most po werf ul f orce on eart h. Mor e po werf ul t han anyt hi ng el se.”
A ti ny li ne appear ed bet ween hi s eyebr o ws. “I don’t . . .”
“ Yes, you do.” Tread carefully , she t ol d herself, but she coul dn’t hel p it, coul dn’t hel p t he str ai n t hat surf aced i n her
voi ce. “ You r e me mber. The most po werf ul f orce t her e i s, you sai d. Str onger t han Heaven or Hell. It has t o be mor e
po werf ul t han Lilit h, t oo.”
Not hi ng. He st ar ed at her as if he coul dn’t hear her. It was li ke shouti ng do wn i nt o a bl ack, e mpt y t unnel. Jace,
Jace, Jace. I kno w you’r e i n t her e .
“ Ther e’ s a way you coul d pr ot ect me and still do what she want s,” she sai d. “ Woul dn’t t hat be t he best t hi ng?” She
pr essed her body cl oser agai nst hi s, f eeli ng her st o mach t wi st. It was li ke hol di ng Jace and not li ke it, all at t he
sa me ti me, j oy and horr or mi xed t oget her. And she coul d f eel hi s body r eact t o her, t he dr u mbeat of hi s heart i n
her ears, her vei ns; he had not st opped wanti ng her, what ever l ayers of contr ol Lilit h exert ed over hi s mi nd.
“I’ll whi sper it t o you,” she sai d, br ushi ng her li ps agai nst hi s neck. She br eat hed i n t he scent of hi m, as f a mili ar as
t he scent of her o wn ski n. “ Li st en.”
She tilt ed her f ace up, and he l eaned do wn t o hear her —and her hand moved fr o m hi s wai st t o cl a mp do wn on t he
hilt of t he knif e i n hi s belt. She whi pped it up war d, j ust as he had sho wn her when t hey had tr ai ned, bal anci ng it s
wei ght i n her pal m, and she sl ashed t he bl ade acr oss t he l eft si de of hi s chest i n a wi de, shall o w arc. Jace cri ed
out —mor e i n sur pri se t han pai n, she guessed —and bl ood burst fr o m t he cut, spilli ng do wn hi s ski n, obscuri ng t he
r une. He put hi s hand t o hi s chest; when it ca me a way r ed, he st ar ed at her, hi s eyes wi de, as if so meho w he was
genuinely hurt, genuinely unable to believe in her betrayal.
Cl ary spun a way fr o m hi m as Lilit h cri ed out. Si mon was no l onger bendi ng over Sebasti an; he had str ai ght ened
up and was st ari ng do wn at Cl ary, t he back of hi s hand j a mmed agai nst hi s mout h. Bl ack de mon bl ood dri pped
fr o m hi s chi n ont o hi s whit e shirt. Hi s eyes wer e wi de.
“Jace,” Lilit h’ s voi ce soar ed up war d i n ast oni sh ment. “Jace, get hol d of her —I or der it —”
Jace di dn’t move. He was st ari ng fr o m Cl ary, t o Lilit h, at hi s bl oody hand, and t hen back agai n. Si mon had begun
t o back a way fr o m Lilit h; suddenl y he st opped wit h a j erk and bent doubl e, f alli ng t o hi s knees. Lilit h whirl ed a way
fr o m Jace and advanced on Si mon, her har d f ace cont ort ed. “ Get up!” she shri eked. “ Get on your f eet! You dr ank
his blood. Now he needs yours!”
Si mon str uggl ed t o a sitti ng positi on, t hen sli d li mpl y t o t he gr ound. He r et ched, coughi ng up bl ack bl ood. Cl ary
r e me mber ed hi m i n I dri s, sayi ng t hat Sebasti an’ s bl ood was li ke poi son. Lilit h dr e w back her f oot t o ki ck hi m—
then staggered back as if an invisible hand had pushed her, hard. Lilith screeched—not words, just a scream like
t he cry of an o wl. It was a sound of unadult er at ed hatr ed and r age.
It was not a sound a hu man bei ng coul d have made; it f elt li ke j agged shar ds of gl ass bei ng dri ven i nt o Cl ary’ s
ears. She cri ed out, “ Leave Si mon al one! He’ s si ck. Can’t you see he’ s si ck?”
She was i mmedi at el y sorry she’ d spoken. Lilit h t ur ned sl o wl y, her gaze sli di ng over Jace, col d and i mperi ous. “I
t ol d you, Jace Her ondal e.” Her voi ce r ang out. “ Don’t l et t he girl l eave t he circl e. Take her weapon.”
Cl ary had bar el y r eali zed she was still hol di ng t he knif e. She f elt so col d she was nearl y nu mb, but beneat h t hat a
wash of unbear abl e r age at Lilit h —at everyt hi ng —fr eed t he move ment of her ar m. She fl ung t he knif e at t he
gr ound. It ski dded acr oss t he til es, f et chi ng up at Jace’ s f eet. He st ar ed do wn at it bli ndl y, as if he’ d never seen a
weapon before.
Lilit h’ s mout h was a t hi n r ed sl ash. The whit es of her eyes had vani shed; t hey wer e all bl ack. She di d not l ook
human. “Jace,” she hissed. “Jace Herondale, you heard me. And you will obey me.”
“ Take it,” Cl ary sai d, l ooki ng at Jace. “ Take it and kill eit her her or me. It’ s your choi ce.”
Sl o wl y Jace bent do wn and pi cked up t he knif e.
Alec haSda ndalphon in one hand, a hachi wara —good f or parryi ng multi pl e att ackers —i n t he ot her. At l east si x
culti st s l ay at hi s f eet, dead or unconsci ous.
Al ec had f ought quit e a f e w de mons i n hi s ti me, but t her e was so met hi ng especi all y eeri e about fi ghti ng t he
culti st s of t he Church of Talt o. They moved all t oget her, l ess li ke peopl e t han li ke an eeri e dark ti de —eeri e
because t hey wer e so sil ent and so bi zarr el y str ong and f ast. They al so see med t ot all y unafr ai d of deat h. Though
Al ec and Isabell e shout ed at t he m t o keep back, t hey kept movi ng f or war d i n a wor dl ess, cl ust eri ng hor de, fli ngi ng
t he msel ves at t he Shado whunt ers wit h t he self- destr ucti ve mi ndl essness of l e mmi ngs hurli ng t he msel ves over a
cliff. They had backed Al ec and Isabell e do wn t he hall way and i nt o t he bi g, open r oo m f ull of st one pedest al s,
when t he noi se of t he fi ght br ought Jor dan and Mai a r unni ng: Jor dan i n wolf f or m, Mai a still hu man, but wit h her
cl a ws f ull y out.
The culti st s see med bar el y t o r egi st er t heir pr esence. They f ought on, f alli ng one aft er t he ot her as Al ec, Mai a, and
Jordanl ai d about t he msel ves wit h kni ves, cl a ws, and bl ades. Isabell e’ s whi p tr aced shi mmeri ng patt er ns i n t he air
as it sli ced t hr ough bodi es, sendi ng fi ne spr ays of bl ood i nt o t he air. Mai a especi all y was acquitti ng herself well.
At l east a dozen culti st s l ay cr u mpl ed ar ound her, and she was l ayi ng i nt o anot her one wit h a bl azi ng f ury, her
cl a wed hands r ed t o t he wri st s.
A culti st str eaked acr oss Al ec’ s pat h and l unged at hi m, hands out str et ched. It s hood was up; he coul dn’t see it s
f ace, or guess at sex or age. He sank t he bl ade of Sandal phon i nt o t he l eft si de of it s chest. It scr ea med —a mal e
scr ea m, l oud and hoarse. The man coll apsed, cl a wi ng at hi s chest, wher e fl a mes wer e li cki ng at t he edge of t he
t or n hol e i n hi s j acket. Al ec t ur ned a way, si ckened. He hat ed wat chi ng what happened t o hu mans when a ser aph
blade pierced their skin.
Suddenl y he f elt a seari ng bur n acr oss hi s back, and t ur ned t o see a second culti st wi el di ng a j agged pi ece of
r ebar. Thi s one was hoodl ess —a man, hi s f ace so t hi n t hat hi s cheekbones see med t o be di ggi ng t hr ough hi s
skin. He hissed and lunged again at Alec, who leaped aside, the weapon whistling harmlessly past him. He spun
and ki cked it out of t he culti st’ s hand; it r attl ed t o t he fl oor, and t he culti st backed up, nearl y tri pped over a body —
and ran.
Al ec hesit at ed f or a mo ment. The culti st who had j ust att acked hi m had nearl y made it t o t he door. Al ec kne w he
ought t o f oll o w —f or all he kne w, t he man mi ght be r unni ng t o war n so meone or t o get r ei nf orce ment s —but he f elt
bone-weary, disgusted, and a little sick. These people might be possessed; they might barely be people
any mor e, but it still f elt t oo much li ke killi ng hu man bei ngs.
He wonder ed what Magnus woul d say, but t o t ell t he tr ut h, he alr eady kne w. Al ec had f ought cr eat ur es li ke t hi s
bef or e, t he cult servant s of de mons. Al most all t hat was hu man about t he m had been consu med by t he de mon f or
ener gy, l eavi ng not hi ng but a mur der ous year ni ng t o kill and a hu man body dyi ng sl o wl y i n agony. They wer e
beyond hel p: i ncur abl e, unfi xabl e. He hear d Magnus’ s voi ce as if t he warl ock st ood besi de hi m. Killi ng t he m i s t he
most mercif ul t hi ng you can do.
Ja mmi ng t he hachi war a back i nt o hi s belt, Al ec gave chase, poundi ng out t he door and i nt o t he hall aft er t he
fl eei ng culti st. The hall way was e mpt y, t he f art hest of t he el evat or doors j a mmed open, a weir d hi gh- pit ched al ar m
noi se soundi ng t hr ough t he corri dor. Sever al door ways br anched off fr o m t he f oyer. Shr uggi ng i nwar dl y, Al ec
picked one at random and dashed through it.
He f ound hi mself i n a maze of s mall r oo ms t hat wer e bar el y fi ni shed —dry wall had been hastil y t hr o wn up, and
bouquet s of multi col or ed wir e spr out ed fr o m hol es i n t he wall s. The ser aph bl ade t hr e w a pat chwork quilt of li ght
acr oss t he wall s as he moved cauti ousl y t hr ough t he r oo ms, hi s nerves pri ckli ng. At one poi nt t he li ght caught
move ment, and he j u mped. Lo weri ng t he bl ade, he sa w a pair of r ed eyes and a s mall gr ay body skitt eri ng i nt o a
hol e i n t he wall. Al ec’ s mout h t wit ched. That was Ne w York f or you. Even i n a buil di ng as ne w as t hi s one, t her e
wer e r at s.
Event uall y t he r oo ms opened out i nt o a l ar ger space —not as l ar ge as t he r oo m wit h t he pedest al s, but mor e
si zeabl e t han t he ot hers. Ther e was a wall of gl ass her e, t oo, wit h car dboar d t aped acr oss secti ons of it.
A dark shape was huddled in one corner of the room, near an exposed section of piping. Alec approached
cauti ousl y. Was it a tri ck of t he li ght ? No, t he shape was r ecogni zabl y hu man, a bent, huddl ed fi gur e i n dark
cl ot hes. Al ec’ s ni ght vi si on r une t wi nged as he narr o wed hi s eyes, movi ng f or war d. The shape r esol ved it self i nt o
a sli m wo man, bar ef oot, her hands chai ned i n fr ont of her t o a l engt h of pi pe. She r ai sed her head as Al ec
approached, and the dim light that poured through the windows illuminated her pale white-blond hair.
“Alexander?” she said, her voice rich with disbelief. “Alexander Lightwood?”
It was Ca mill e.
“Jace.” Lilit h’ s voi ce ca me do wn li ke a whi p acr oss bar e fl esh; even Cl ary fli nched at t he sound of it. “I co mmand
you t o —”
Jace’ s ar m dr e w back —Cl ary t ensed, br aci ng herself —and he fl ung t he knif e at Lilit h. It whi pped t hr ough t he air,
end over end, and sank i nt o her chest; she st agger ed back, caught off bal ance. Lilit h’ s heel s ski dded on t he
s moot h st one; t he de moness ri ght ed herself wit h a snarl, r eachi ng do wn t o pl uck t he knif e fr o m her ri bs. Spitti ng
so met hi ng i n a l anguage Cl ary coul dn’t underst and, she l et it dr op. It f ell hi ssi ng t o t he gr ound, it s bl ade half- eat en
a way, as if by a po werf ul aci d.
She whirl ed on Cl ary. “ What di d you do t o hi m? What di d you do? ” Her eyes had been all black a moment ago.
No w t hey see med t o bul ge and pr otr ude. S mall bl ack ser pent s slit her ed fr o m her eye socket s; Cl ary cri ed out and
st epped back, al most tri ppi ng over a l o w hedge. Thi s was t he Lilit h she had seen i n It huri el’ s vi si on, wit h her
slithering eyes and harsh, echoing voice. She advanced on Clary—
And suddenl y Jace was bet ween t he m, bl ocki ng Lilit h’ s pat h. Cl ary st ar ed. He was hi mself agai n. He see med t o
bur n wit h a ri ght eous fir e, as Razi el had by Lake Lyn t hat horri bl e ni ght. He had dr a wn a ser aph bl ade fr o m hi s
belt; t he whit e-sil ver of it r efl ect ed i n hi s eyes; bl ood dri pped fr o m t he r ent i n hi s shirt and sli cked hi s bar e ski n.
The way he l ooked at her, at Lilit h —if angel s coul d ri se up out of Hell, Cl ary t hought, t hey woul d l ook li ke t hat.
“ Mi chael,” he sai d, and Cl ary wasn’t sur e whet her it was t he str engt h of t he na me, or t he r age i n hi s voi ce, but t he
blade he held blazed up brighter than any seraph blade she’d ever seen. She looked aside for a moment, blinded,
and saw Simon lying in a crumpled dark heap beside Sebastian’s glass coffin.
Her heart t wi st ed i nsi de her chest. What if Sebasti an’ s de mon bl ood had poi soned hi m? The Mark of Cai n
woul dn’t hel p hi m. It was so met hi ng he had done willi ngl y, t o hi mself. For her. Si mon.
“ Ah, Mi chael.” Lilit h’ s voi ce was ri ch wit h l aught er as she moved t o war d Jace. “ The capt ai n of t he host s of t he
Lor d. I kne w hi m.”
Jace r ai sed t he ser aph bl ade; it bl azed li ke a st ar, so bri ght t hat Cl ary wonder ed if all t he cit y coul d see it, li ke a
searchli ght pi erci ng t he sky. “ Don’t co me any cl oser.”
Lilit h, t o Cl ary’ s sur pri se, paused. “ Mi chael sl e w t he de mon Sa mmael, who m I l oved,” she sai d. “ Why i s it, littl e
Shado whunt er, t hat your angel s ar e so col d and wit hout mercy? Why do t hey br eak t hat whi ch will not obey t he m?”
“I had no i dea you wer e such a pr oponent of fr ee will,” sai d Jace, and t he way he sai d it, hi s voi ce heavy wit h
sarcas m, di d mor e t o r eassur e Cl ary t hat he was hi mself agai n t han anyt hi ng el se woul d have. “ Ho w about l etti ng
us all wal k off t hi s r oof no w, t hen? Me, Si mon, Cl ary? What do you say, de moness? It’ s over. You don’t contr ol me
any mor e. I won’t hurt Cl ary, and Si mon won’t obey you. And t hat pi ece of filt h you’r e tryi ng t o r esuscit at e —I
suggest you get ri d of hi m bef or e he st art s t o r ot. Because he i sn’t co mi ng back, and he’ s way past hi s sell- by
dat e.”
Lilit h’ s f ace t wi st ed. She spat at Jace, and her spit was a bl ack fl a me t hat hit t he gr ound and beca me a snake t hat
wi ggl ed t o war d hi m, it s j a ws agape. He s mashed it wit h a boot ed f oot and l unged f or t he de moness, bl ade
out str et ched; but Lilit h was gone li ke a shado w when li ght shone on it, vani shi ng and r ef or mi ng j ust behi nd hi m. As
he spun, she r eached out al most l azil y and sl a mmed her open pal m agai nst hi s chest.
Jace went fl yi ng, Mi chael knocked fr o m hi s hand, skitt eri ng acr oss t he st one til es. Jace sail ed t hr ough t he air and
str uck t he l o w r oof wall wit h such f orce t hat spli nt eri ng li nes appear ed i n t he st one. He hit t he gr ound har d, vi si bl y
stunned.
Gaspi ng, Cl ary r an f or t he f all en ser aph bl ade, but never r eached it. Lilit h caught Cl ary up i n t wo t hi n, i cy hands
and t hr e w her wit h i ncr edi bl e f orce. Cl ary hurtl ed i nt o a l o w hedge, t he br anches sl ashi ng vi ci ousl y at her ski n,
openi ng up l ong cut s. She str uggl ed t o fr ee herself, her dr ess t angl ed i n t he f oli age. She hear d t he sil k ri p as she
t or e fr ee and t ur ned t o see Lilit h dr ag Jace t o hi s f eet, her hand f ast ened i n t he bl oody fr ont of hi s shirt.
She gri nned at hi m, and her t eet h wer e bl ack t oo, and gl ea med li ke met al. “I a m gl ad you’r e on your f eet, littl e
Nephili m. I want t o see your f ace when I kill you, not st ab you i n t he back t he way you di d my son.”
Jace wi ped hi s sl eeve acr oss hi s f ace; he was bl eedi ng fr o m a l ong cut al ong hi s cheek, and t he f abri c ca me
a way r ed. “ He’ s not your son. You donat ed so me bl ood t o hi m. That doesn’t make hi m yours. Mot her of warl ocks
—” He t ur ned hi s head and spat, bl ood. “ You’r e not anyone’ s mot her.”
Lilit h’ s snake eyes dart ed back and f ort h f uri ousl y. Cl ary, di sent angli ng herself pai nf ull y fr o m t he hedge, sa w t hat
each of t he snake heads had t wo eyes of it s o wn, glitt eri ng and r ed. Cl ary’ s st o mach t ur ned as t he snakes moved,
t heir gazes see mi ng t o slit her up and do wn Jace’ s body. “ Cutti ng my r une apart. Ho w cr ude,” she spat.
“ But eff ecti ve,” sai d Jace.
“ You cannot wi n agai nst me, Jace Her ondal e,” she sai d. “ You may be t he gr eat est Shado whunt er t hi s worl d has
kno wn, but I a m mor e t han a Gr eat er De mon.”
“ Then, fi ght me,” sai d Jace. “I’ll gi ve you a weapon. I’ll have my ser aph bl ade. Fi ght me one on one, and we’ll see
who wins.”
Lilit h l ooked at hi m, shaki ng her head sl o wl y, her dark hair s wirli ng ar ound her li ke s moke. “I a m t he ol dest of
de mons,” she sai d. “I a m not a man. I have no mal e pri de f or you t o tri ck me wit h, and I a m not i nt er est ed i n si ngl e
co mbat. That i s entir el y a weakness of your sex, not mi ne. I a m a wo man. I will use any weapon and all weapons t o
get what I want.” She l et go of hi m t he m, wit h a half-cont e mpt uous shove; Jace st u mbl ed f or a mo ment, ri ghti ng
hi mself qui ckl y and r eachi ng t o t he gr ound f or t he glitt eri ng bl ade of Mi chael.
He seized it just as Lilith laughed and raised her hands. Half-opaque shadows exploded from her open palms.
Even Jace looked shocked as the shadows solidified into the forms of twin black shadowy demons with
shi mmeri ng r ed eyes. They hit t he gr ound, pa wi ng and gr o wli ng. They wer e dogs, Cl ary t hought i n a maze ment,
two gaunt, vicious-looking black dogs that vaguely resembled Doberman pinschers.
“Hellhounds,” breathed Jace. “Clary—”
He br oke off as one of t he dogs spr ang t o war d hi m, it s mout h opened as wi de as a shark’ s, a l oud, bayi ng ho wl
er upti ng fr o m it s t hr oat. A mo ment l at er t he second one l eaped i nt o t he air, l aunchi ng it self dir ectl y at Cl ary.
“Camille.” Alec’s head was spinning. “What are you doing here?”
He i mmedi at el y r eali zed t hat he sounded li ke an i di ot. He f ought do wn t he ur ge t o s mack hi mself i n t he f or ehead.
The l ast t hi ng he want ed was t o l ook li ke a f ool i n fr ont of Magnus’ s ex- girlfri end.
“It was Lilit h,” sai d t he va mpir e wo man i n a s mall, tr e mbli ng voi ce. “ She had her cult me mbers br eak i nt o t he
Sanct uary. It i sn’t war ded agai nst hu mans, and t hey’r e hu man —bar el y. They cut my chai ns and br ought me her e,
t o her.” She r ai sed her hands; t he chai ns bi ndi ng her wri st s t o t he pi pe r attl ed. “ They br ut ali zed me.”
Alec crouched down, bringing his eyes on a level with Camille’s. Vampires didn’t bruise—they healed too quickly
f or t hat —but her hair was matt ed wit h bl ood on t he l eft si de, whi ch made hi m t hi nk she was t elli ng t he tr ut h. “ Let’ s
say I beli eve you,” he sai d. “ What di d she want wit h you? Not hi ng i n what I kno w about Lilit h says she has a
parti cul ar i nt er est i n va mpir es.”
“ You kno w why t he Cl ave was hol di ng me,” she sai d. “ You woul d have hear d.”
“You killed three Shadowhunters. Magnus said you claimed you were doing it because someone had ordered you
t o —” He br oke off. “ Lilit h?”
“If I t ell you, will you hel p me?” Ca mill e’ s l o wer li p tr e mbl ed. Her eyes wer e huge, gr een, pl eadi ng. She was very
beautif ul. Al ec wonder ed if she had once l ooked at Magnus li ke t hi s. It made hi m want t o shake her.
“I mi ght,” he sai d, ast oni shed at t he col dness i n hi s o wn voi ce. “ You don’t have a l ot of bar gai ni ng po wer her e. I
coul d go off and l eave you f or Lilit h t o have, and it woul dn’t make much diff er ence t o me.”
“ Yes, it woul d,” she sai d. Her voi ce was l o w. “ Magnus l oves you. He woul dn’t l ove you if you wer e t he sort of
person who could abandon someone helpless.”
“ He l oved you,” Alec said.
She gave a wi stf ul s mil e. “ He appears t o have l ear ned bett er si nce t hen.”
Al ec r ocked back on hi s heel s sli ghtl y. “ Look,” he sai d. “ Tell me t he tr ut h. If you do, I’ll cut you fr ee and bri ng you t o
t he Cl ave. They’ll tr eat you bett er t han Lilit h woul d.”
She l ooked do wn at her wri st s, chai ned t o t he pi pe. “ The Cl ave chai ned me,” she sai d. “ Lilit h chai ned me. I see
littl e diff er ence i n my tr eat ment bet ween t he t wo.”
“I guess it’ s your choi ce, t hen. Tr ust me, or tr ust her,” Al ec sai d. It was a ga mbl e, he kne w.
He wait ed f or sever al t ense mo ment s bef or e she sai d, “ Very well. If Magnus tr ust s you, I will tr ust you.” She r ai sed
her head, doi ng her best t o l ook di gnifi ed despit e t or n cl ot hi ng and bl oody hair. “ Lilit h ca me t o me, not I t o her.
She had hear d I was l ooki ng t o r ecover my positi on as head of t he Manhatt an cl an fr o m Raphael Santi ago. She
sai d she woul d hel p me, if I woul d hel p her.”
“Help her by murdering Shadowhunters?”
“She wanted their blood,” said Camille. “It was for those babies. She was injecting Shadowhunter blood and
de mon bl ood i nt o t he mot hers, tryi ng t o r epli cat e what Val enti ne di d t o hi s son. It di dn’t work, t hough. The babi es
became twistedt hi ngs —and t hen t hey di ed.” Cat chi ng hi s r evolt ed l ook, she sai d, “I di dn’t kno w at first what she
wanted the bloodf or. You may not t hi nk much of me, but I have no t ast e f or mur deri ng i nnocent s.”
“ You di dn’t have t o do it,” sai d Al ec. “Just because she off er ed.”
Ca mill e s mil ed tir edl y. “ When you ar e as ol d as I a m,” she sai d, “it i s because you have l ear ned t o pl ay t he ga me
corr ectl y —t o make t he ri ght alli ances at t he ri ght ti mes. To all y yourself not j ust wit h t he po werf ul, but wit h t hose
who you beli eve will make you po werf ul. I kne w t hat if I di d not agr ee t o assi st Lilit h, she woul d kill me. De mons ar e
not by nat ur e tr usti ng, and she woul d t hi nk t hat I woul d go t o t he Cl ave wit h what I kne w about her pl ans t o kill
Shado whunt ers, even if I pr o mi sed her I woul d st ay sil ent. I t ook a chance t hat Lilit h was a gr eat er danger t o me
t han your ki nd wer e.”
“And you didn’t mind killing Shadowhunters.”
“ They wer e Circl e me mbers,” sai d Ca mill e. “ They had kill ed my ki nd. And yours.”
“ And Si mon Le wi s? What was your i nt er est i n hi m?”
“ Everyone want s t he Dayli ght er on t heir si de.” Ca mill e shr ugged. “ And I kne w he had t he Mark of Cai n. One of
Raphael’s vampire underlings is still loyal to me. He passed on the information. Few other Downworlders know of
it. It makes hi m an i ncal cul abl y val uabl e all y.”
“Is t hat what Lilit h want s wit h hi m?”
Ca mill e’ s eyes wi dened. Her ski n was very pal e, and beneat h it Al ec coul d see t hat her vei ns had darkened, t he
patt er n of t he m begi nni ng t o spr ead acr oss t he whit eness of her f ace li ke wi deni ng cr acks i n chi na. Event uall y,
starving vampires became savage, then lost consciousness, once they had been without blood for too long. The
ol der t hey wer e, t he l onger t hey coul d st ave it off, but Al ec coul dn’t hel p but wonder ho w l ong it had been si nce she
had f ed. “ What do you mean?”
“ Appar entl y she’ s su mmoned Si mon t o meet wit h her,” sai d Al ec. “ They’r e so me wher e i n t he buil di ng.”
Ca mill e st ar ed a mo ment l onger, t hen l aughed. “ A tr ue ir ony,” she sai d. “ She never menti oned hi m t o me, and I
never menti oned hi m t o her, and yet bot h of us wer e pursui ng hi m f or our o wn ends. If she want s hi m, it’ s f or hi s
blood,” she added. “The ritual she’s performing is most assuredly one of blood magic. His blood—mixed
Downworlder and Shadowhunter blood—would be of great use to her.”
Al ec f elt a fli cker of unease. “ But she can’t hurt hi m. The Mark of Cai n —”
“ She’ll fi nd a way ar ound t hat,” sai d Ca mill e. “ She i s Lilit h, mot her of warl ocks. She’ s been ali ve a long time,
Alexander.”
Al ec got t o hi s f eet. “ Then I’ d bett er fi nd out what she’ s doi ng.”
Ca mill e’ s chai ns r attl ed as she tri ed t o ri se t o her knees. “ Wait —but you sai d you woul d fr ee me.”
Al ec t ur ned and l ooked do wn at her. “I di dn’t. I sai d I woul d l et t he Cl ave have you.”
“ But if you l eave me her e, not hi ng pr event s Lilit h fr o m fi ndi ng me first.” She t ossed her matt ed hair back; li nes of
strain showed in her face. “Alexander, please. I beg you—”
“ Who’ s Will ?” Al ec sai d. The wor ds ca me out abr uptl y, unexpect edl y, and much t o hi s horr or.
“ Will ?” For a mo ment her f ace was bl ank; t hen it cr eased i nt o a l ook of r eali zati on, and near a muse ment. “ You
hear d my conversati on wit h Magnus.”
“ So me of it.” Al ec exhal ed car ef ull y. “ Will i s dead, i sn’t he? I mean, Magnus sai d it was a l ong ti me ago t hat he
kne w hi m. . . .”
“I kno w what’ s bot heri ng you, littl e Shado whunt er.” Ca mill e’ s voi ce had gone musi cal and soft. Behi nd her, t hr ough
t he wi ndo ws, Al ec coul d see t he di st ant fli ckeri ng li ght s of a pl ane as it fl e w over t he cit y. “ At first you wer e happy.
You t hought of t he mo ment, not of t he f ut ur e. No w you have r eali zed. You will gr o w ol d, and will so meday di e. And
Magnus will not. He will conti nue. You will not gr o w ol d t oget her. You will gr o w apart i nst ead.”
Al ec t hought of t he peopl e on t he air pl ane, hi gh up i n t he col d and i cy air, l ooki ng do wn on t he cit y li ke a fi el d of
glittering diamonds, far below. Of course, he had never been in an airplane himself. He was only guessing at how
it woul d f eel: l onel y, di st ant, di sconnect ed fr o m t he worl d. “ You can’t kno w t hat,” he sai d. “ That we’ll gr o w apart.”
She s mil ed pit yi ngl y. “ You’r e beautif ul no w,” she sai d. “ But will you be i n t went y years? I n f ort y? Fift y? Will he l ove
your bl ue eyes when t hey f ade, your soft ski n when age cut s deep f urr o ws i n it ? Your hands when t hey wri nkl e and
gr o w weak, your hair when it gr o ws whit e —”
“ Shut up.” Al ec hear d t he cr ack i n hi s o wn voi ce, and was asha med. “Just shut up. I don’t want t o hear it.”
“It doesn’t have t o be t hat way.” Ca mill e l eaned t o war d hi m, her gr een eyes l u mi nous. “ What if I t ol d you t hat you
didn’t have to grow old? Didn’t have to die?”
Al ec f elt a wave of r age. “I’ m not i nt er est ed i n beco mi ng a va mpir e. Don’t even bot her maki ng t he off er. Not if t he
only other alternative was death.”
For t he bri ef est of mo ment s her f ace t wi st ed. It was gone i n a fl ash as her contr ol r eassert ed it self; she s mil ed a
t hi n s mil e and sai d, “ That wasn’t my suggesti on. What if I t ol d you t her e was anot her way? Anot her way f or t he t wo
of you t o be t oget her f or ever ?”
Al ec s wall o wed. Hi s mout h was as dry as paper. “ Tell me,” he sai d.
Ca mill e r ai sed her hands. Her chai ns r attl ed. “ Cut t hese fr ee.”
“ No. Tell me first.”
She shook her head. “I won’t do t hat.” Her expr essi on was as har d as mar bl e, as was her voi ce. “ You sai d I had
not hi ng t o bar gai n wit h. But I do. And I will not gi ve it a way.”
Al ec hesit at ed. I n hi s head he hear d Magnus’ s soft voi ce. She i s a mast er of i mpli cati on and mani pul ati on. She
always has been.
But Magnus, he t hought. You never t ol d me. Never war ned me it woul d be li ke t hi s, t hat I woul d wake up one day
and r eali ze t hat I was goi ng so me wher e you coul dn’t f oll o w. That we ar e essenti all y not t he sa me. Ther e’ s no “till
deat h do us part” f or t hose who never di e .
He t ook a st ep t o war d Ca mill e, and t hen anot her. Rai si ng hi s ri ght ar m, he br ought t he ser aph bl ade do wn, as
har d as he coul d. It shear ed t hr ough t he met al of her chai ns; her wri st s spr ang apart, still i n t heir manacl es but
fr ee. She br ought her hands up, her expr essi on gl oati ng, tri u mphant.
“ Al ec.” Isabell e spoke fr o m t he door way; Al ec t ur ned and sa w her st andi ng t her e, her whi p at her si de. It was
st ai ned wit h bl ood, as wer e her hands and her sil k dr ess. “ What ar e you doi ng i n her e?”
“ Not hi ng. I —” Al ec f elt a wave of sha me and horr or; al most wit hout t hi nki ng, he moved t o st ep i n fr ont of Ca mill e,
as if he coul d obscur e her fr o m hi s si st er’ s vi e w.
“ They’r e all dead.” Isabell e sounded gri m. “ The culti st s. We kill ed every one of t he m. No w co me on. We have t o
st art l ooki ng f or Si mon.” She squi nt ed at Al ec. “ Ar e you okay? You l ook r eall y pal e.”
“I cut her fr ee,” Al ec bl urt ed. “I shoul dn’t have. It’ s j ust —”
“Cut who fr ee?” Isabell e t ook a st ep i nt o t he r oo m. The a mbi ent cit y li ght sparked off her dr ess, maki ng her shi ne
li ke a ghost. “ Al ec, what ar e you bl at heri ng about ?”
Her expr essi on was bl ank, conf used. Al ec t ur ned, f oll o wi ng her gaze, and sa w —not hi ng. The pi pe was still t her e,
a l engt h of chai n l yi ng besi de it, t he dust on t he fl oor onl y very sli ghtl y di st ur bed. But Ca mill e was gone.
Clary barely had time to put her arms up before the hellhound collided with her, a cannonball of muscle and bone
and hot, sti nki ng br eat h. Her f eet went out fr o m under her; she r e me mber ed Jace t elli ng her t he best way t o f all,
ho w t o pr ot ect yourself, but t he advi ce fl e w fr o m her mi nd and she hit t he gr ound wit h her el bo ws, agony shooti ng
t hr ough her as t he ski n t or e. A mo ment l at er t he hound was on t op of her, it s pa ws cr ushi ng her chest, it s gnarl ed
t ail s wi shi ng fr o m si de t o si de i n a gr ot esque i mit ati on of a wag. The ti p of it s t ail was spi ked wit h nail-li ke
protrusions like a medieval mace, and a thick growl came from its barrel-chested body, so loud and strong that
she could feel her bones vibrate.
“ Hol d her t her e! Tear her t hr oat out if she tri es t o get a way!” Lilit h snapped i nstr ucti ons as t he second hell hound
spr ang at Jace; he was str uggli ng wit h it, r olli ng over and over, a whirl wi nd of t eet h and ar ms and l egs and t he
vi ci ous whi ppi ng t ail. Pai nf ull y Cl ary t ur ned her head t o t he ot her si de, and sa w Lilit h stri di ng t o war d t he gl ass
coffi n and Si mon, still l yi ng i n a heap besi de it. I nsi de t he coffi n Sebasti an fl oat ed, as moti onl ess as a dr o wned
body; t he mil ky col or of t he wat er had t ur ned dark, pr obabl y wit h hi s bl ood.
The hound pi nni ng her t o t he gr ound snarl ed cl ose t o her ear. The sound sent a j olt of f ear t hr ough her —and al ong
wit h t he f ear, anger. Anger at Lilit h, and at herself. She was a Shado whunt er. It was one t hi ng t o be t aken do wn by
a Ravener de mon when she’ d never hear d of t he Nephili m. She had so me tr ai ni ng no w. She ought t o be abl e t o
do better.
Anything can be a weapon . Jace had sai d t hat t o her i n t he park. The wei ght of t he hell hound was cr ushi ng; she
made a gaggi ng noi se and r eached f or her t hr oat, as if fi ghti ng f or air. It barked and snarl ed, bari ng it s t eet h; her
fi ngers cl osed on t he chai n hol di ng t he Mor genst er n ri ng ar ound her neck. She yanked it, har d, and t he chai n
snapped; she whi pped it t o war d t he dog’ s f ace, sl ashi ng t he hound br ut all y acr oss t he eyes. The hound r ear ed
back, ho wli ng i n pai n, and Cl ary r oll ed t o t he si de, scr a mbli ng t o her knees. Bl oody- eyed, t he dog cr ouched, r eady
t o spri ng. The neckl ace had f all en out of Cl ary’ s hand, t he ri ng r olli ng a way; she scr abbl ed f or t he chai n as t he dog
leaped—
A shi ni ng bl ade split t he ni ght, sl ashi ng do wn i nches fr o m Cl ary’ s f ace, severi ng t he dog’ s head fr o m it s body. It
gave a single howl and vanished, leaving behind a scorched black mark on the stone, and the stench of demon in
t he air.
Hands ca me do wn, lift ed Cl ary gentl y t o her f eet. It was Jace. He had shoved t he bur ni ng ser aph bl ade t hr ough hi s
belt, and he hel d her by bot h hands, gazi ng at her wit h a peculi ar l ook. She coul dn’t have descri bed it, or even
dr a wn it —hope, shock, l ove, year ni ng, and anger all mi xed t oget her i n hi s expr essi on. Hi s shirt was t or n i n sever al
pl aces, soaked wit h bl ood; hi s j acket was gone, hi s f air hair matt ed wit h s weat and bl ood. For a mo ment t hey
si mpl y st ar ed at each ot her, hi s gri p on her hands pai nf ull y ti ght. Then t hey bot h spoke at once:
“ Ar e you —,” she began.
“ Cl ary.” Still gri ppi ng her hands, he pushed her a way fr o m hi m, a way fr o m t he circl e, t o war d t he wal k way t hat l ed t o
t he el evat ors. “ Go,” he sai d r aggedl y. “ Get out of her e, Cl ary.”
“Jace—”
He t ook a shaki ng br eat h. “Please ,”he sai d, and t hen he l et her go, dr a wi ng t he ser aph bl ade fr o m hi s belt as he
t ur ned back t o war d t he circl e.
“ Get up,” Lilit h gr o wl ed. “ Geut p .”
A hand shook Simon’s shoulder, sending a wave of agony through his head. He had been floating in darkness; he
opened hi s eyes no w and sa w ni ght sky, st ars, and Lilit h’ s whit e f ace l oo mi ng over hi m. Her eyes wer e gone,
r epl aced by slit heri ng bl ack snakes. The shock of t he si ght was enough t o pr opel Si mon t o hi s f eet.
The mo ment he was upri ght, he r et ched and nearl y f ell t o hi s knees agai n. Shutti ng hi s eyes agai nst t he nausea,
he hear d Lilit h snarl hi s na me, and t hen her hand was on hi s ar m, gui di ng hi m f or war d. He l et her do it. Hi s mout h
was f ull of t he nauseati ng, bitt er t ast e of Sebasti an’ s bl ood; it was spr eadi ng t hr ough hi s vei ns, t oo, maki ng hi m
si ck, weak, and shi very do wn t o hi s bones. Hi s head f elt li ke it wei ghed a t housand pounds, and di zzi ness was
advancing and receding in waves.
Abr uptl y Lilit h’ s col d gri p on hi s ar m was gone. Si mon opened hi s eyes and f ound t hat he was st andi ng over t he
gl ass coffi n, j ust as he had been bef or e. Sebasti an fl oat ed i n t he dark, mil ky li qui d, hi s f ace s moot h, no pul se i n
hi s neck. Two dark hol es wer e vi si bl e at t he si de of hi s t hr oat wher e Si mon had bitt en hi m.
Give him your blood. Lilit h’ s voi ce echoed, not al oud but i nsi de hi s head. Do it no w.
Si mon l ooked up di zzil y. Hi s vi si on was f oggi ng. He str ai ned t o see Cl ary and Jace t hr ough t he encr oachi ng
darkness.
Use your f angs, sai d Lilit h. Tear your wri st open. Gi ve Jonat han your bl ood. Heal hi m.
Si mon r ai sed hi s wri st t o hi s mout h. Heal hi m. Rai si ng so meone fr o m t he dead was a l ot mor e t han heali ng t he m,
he t hought. Maybe Sebasti an’ s hand woul d gr o w back. Maybe t hat’ s what she meant. He wait ed f or hi s f angs t o
co me, but t hey di dn’t. He was t oo si ck t o be hungry, he t hought, and f ought back t he i nsane ur ge t o l augh.
“I can’t,” he sai d, half- gaspi ng. “I can’t —”
“ Lilit h!” Jace’ s voi ce cut t hr ough t he ni ght; Lilit h t ur ned wit h an i ncr edul ous hi ss. Si mon l o wer ed hi s wri st sl o wl y,
str uggli ng t o f ocus hi s eyes. He f ocused on t he bri ght ness i n fr ont of hi m, and it beca me t he l eapi ng fl a me of a
ser aph bl ade, hel d i n Jace’ s l eft hand. Si mon coul d see hi m cl earl y no w, a di sti nct i mage pai nt ed ont o t he
darkness. Hi s j acket was gone, he was filt hy, hi s shirt t or n and bl ack wit h bl ood, but hi s eyes wer e cl ear and
steady and focused. He no longer looked like a zombie or someone caught sleepwalking in a terrible dream.
“ Wher e i s she?” Lilit h sai d, her snake eyes slit heri ng f or war d on t heir st al ks. “ Wher e i s t he girl ?”
Cl ary . Simon’s fogged gaze scanned the darkness around Jace, but she was nowhere to be seen. His vision was
begi nni ng t o cl ear. He coul d see bl ood s meari ng t he til ed gr ound, and bit s of shr edded, t or n sati n caught on t he
shar p br anches of a hedge. What l ooked li ke pa w pri nt s s mear ed t he bl ood. Si mon f elt hi s chest ti ght en. He
looked quickly back at Jace. Jace looked angry—very angry indeed—but not shattered the way Simon would
have expected him to look if something had happened to Clary. So where was she?
“ She has not hi ng t o do wit h t hi s,” Jace sai d. “ You say I can’t kill you, de moness. I say I can. Let’ s see whi ch of us i s
ri ght.”
Lilit h moved so f ast, she was a bl ur. One mo ment she was besi de Si mon, t he next she was on t he st ep above
Jace. She sl ashed out at hi m wit h her hand; he ducked, spi nni ng behi nd her, whi ppi ng t he ser aph bl ade acr oss
her shoul der. She scr ea med, whirli ng on hi m, bl ood arci ng fr o m her wound. It was a shi mmeri ng bl ack col or, li ke
onyx. She br ought her hands t oget her as if she meant t o s mash t he bl ade bet ween t he m. They str uck each ot her
wit h a sound li ke a t hundercl ap, but Jace was alr eady gone, sever al f eet a way, t he li ght of t he ser aph bl ade
danci ng i n t he air bef or e hi m li ke t he wi nk of a mocki ng eye.
If it had been any ot her Shado whunt er but Jace, Si mon t hought, he woul d have been dead alr eady. He t hought of
Ca mill e sayi ng, Man cannot cont end wit h t he di vi ne. Shado whunt ers wer e hu man, despit e t heir angel bl ood, and
Lilit h was mor e t han a de mon.
Pai n shot t hr ough Si mon. Wit h sur pri se he r eali zed hi s f angs had, fi nall y, co me out, and wer e cutti ng i nt o hi s l o wer
li p. The pai n and t he t ast e of bl ood r oused hi m f urt her. He began t o ri se t o hi s f eet, sl o wl y, hi s eyes on Lilit h. She
cert ai nl y di dn’t appear t o noti ce hi m, or what he was doing. Her eyes were fixed on Jace. With another sudden
snarl she l eaped f or hi m. It was li ke wat chi ng mot hs fl ashi ng t o and fr o, wat chi ng t he t wo of t he m as t hey battl ed
back and forth across the rooftop. Even Simon’s vampire vision had trouble keeping up as they moved, leaping
over hedges, darti ng a mong t he wal k ways. Lilit h backed Jace up agai nst t he l o w wall t hat surr ounded a sundi al,
t he nu mbers on it s f ace pi cked out i n shi ni ng gol d. Jace was movi ng so f ast he was nearl y a bl ur, t he li ght of
Mi chael whi ppi ng ar ound Lilit h as if she wer e bei ng wr apped i n a net of shi ni ng fil a ment s. Anyone el se woul d have
been cut t o ri bbons i n seconds. But Lilit h moved li ke dark wat er, li ke s moke. She see med t o vani sh and r eappear
at will, and t hough Jace was cl earl y not tiri ng, Si mon coul d sense hi s fr ustr ati on.
Fi nall y it happened. Jace s wung t he ser aph bl ade vi ol entl y t o war d Lilit h —and she caught it out of t he air, her hand
wrapping around the blade. Her hand was dripping black blood as she yanked the blade toward her. The drops,
as t hey str uck t he gr ound, beca me ti ny obsi di an snakes t hat wi ggl ed a way i nt o t he under br ush.
Taki ng t he bl ade i n bot h hands, she r ai sed it. Bl ood was r unni ng do wn her pal e wri st s and f or ear ms li ke str eaks of
t ar. Wit h a snarli ng gri n she snapped t he bl ade i n half; one half cr u mbl ed t o a shi ni ng po wder i n her hands, whil e
t he ot her —t he hilt and a j agged shar d of bl ade —sputt er ed darkl y, a fl a me half-s mot her ed by ash.
Lilit h s mil ed. “ Poor littl e Mi chael,” she sai d. “ He al ways was weak.”
Jace was panti ng, hi s hands cl enched at hi s si des, hi s hair past ed t o hi s f or ehead wit h s weat. “ You and your
na me- dr oppi ng,” he sai d. “‘I kne w Mi chael.’ ‘I kne w Sa mmael.’ ‘ The angel Gabri el di d my hair.’ It’ s li ke I’ m wit h t he
Band wit h bi bli cal fi gur es.”
Thi s was Jace bei ng br ave, Si mon t hought, br ave and snarky because he t hought Lilit h was goi ng t o kill hi m, and
t hat was t he way he want ed t o go, unafr ai d and on hi s f eet. Li ke a warri or. The way Shado whunt ers di d. Hi s deat h
song woul d al ways be t hi s —j okes and sni deness and pr et end arr ogance, and t hat l ook i n hi s eyes t hat sai d, I’ m
bett er t han you. Si mon j ust hadn’t r eali zed it bef or e.
“ Lilit h,” Jace went on, managi ng t o make t he wor d sound li ke a curse. “I st udi ed you. I n school. Heaven cursed you
wit h barr enness. A t housand babi es, and t hey all di ed. Isn’t t hat t he case?”
Lilit h hel d her darkl y gl o wi ng bl ade, her f ace i mpassi ve. “ Be car ef ul, littl e Shado whunt er.”
“ Or what ? Or you’ll kill me?” Bl ood was dri ppi ng do wn Jace’ s f ace fr o m t he cut on hi s cheek; he made no move t o
wi pe it a way. “ Go ahead.”
No. Si mon tri ed t o t ake a st ep; hi s knees buckl ed, and he f ell, sl a mmi ng hi s hands i nt o t he gr ound. He t ook a
deep breath. He didn’t need the oxygen, but it helped somehow, steadying him. He reached up and grabbed the
edge of t he st one pedest al, usi ng it t o pull hi mself upri ght. The back of hi s head was poundi ng. Ther e was no way
there would be enough time. All Lilith had to do was drive forward the jagged blade she held—
But she di dn’t. Looki ng at Jace, she di dn’t move, and suddenl y hi s eyes fl ashed, hi s mout h r el axi ng. “ You can’t kill
me,” he sai d, hi s voi ce ri si ng. “ What you sai d bef or e —I’ m t he count er wei ght. I’ m t he onl y t hi ng t et heri nhgi m” —he
t hr ust out an ar m, i ndi cati ng Sebasti an’ s gl ass coffi n —“t o t hi s worl d. If I di e, he di es. Isn’t t hat tr ue?” He t ook a
st ep back. “I coul d j u mp off t hi s r oof ri ght no w,” he sai d. “ Kill myself. End t hi s.”
For t he first ti me Lilit h appear ed tr ul y agit at ed. Her head whi pped fr o m si de t o si de, her ser pent eyes qui veri ng,
as if t hey wer e searchi ng t he wi nd. “ Wher e i s she? Wher e’ s t he girl ?”
Jace wi ped bl ood and s weat fr o m hi s f ace and gri nned at her; hi s li p was alr eady split, and bl ood r an do wn hi s
chi n. “ For get it. I sent her back do wnst airs whil e you wer en’t payi ng att enti on. She’ s gone —saf e fr o m you.”
Lilit h snarl ed. “ You li e.”
Jace t ook anot her st ep back. A f e w mor e st eps woul d bri ng hi m t o t he l o w wall, t he edge of t he buil di ng. Jace
coul d survi ve a l ot, Si mon kne w, but a f all fr o m a f ort y-st ory buil di ng mi ght be t oo much even f or hi m.
“ You f or get,” sai d Lilit h. “I was t her e, Shado whunt er. I wat ched you f all and di e. I wat ched Val enti ne weep over your
body. And t hen I wat ched as t he Angel asked Cl ari ssa what she desir ed of hi m, what she want ed i n t he worl d
mor e t han she want ed anyt hi ng el se, and she sai d you. Thi nki ng you coul d be t he onl y peopl e i n t he worl d who
could have their dead loved one back, and that there would be no consequences. That is what you t hought, i sn’t it,
bot h of you? Fool s.” Lilit h spat. “ You l ove each ot her —anyone can see t hat, l ooki ng at you —t hat ki nd of l ove t hat
can bur n do wn t he worl d or r ai se it up i n gl ory. No, she woul d never l eave your si de. Not whil e she t hought you
wer e i n danger.” Her head j erked back, her hand shooti ng out, fi ngers curved i nt o cl a ws. “ Ther e.”
There was a scream, and one of the hedges seemed to tear apart, revealing Clary, who had been crouched,
hi di ng, i n t he mi ddl e of it. Ki cki ng and cl a wi ng, she was dr agged f or war d, her fi nger nail s scr api ng t he gr ound,
sei zi ng i n vai n f or a purchase on so met hi ng t hat she coul d gri p. Her hands l eft bl oody tr ail s on t he til es.
“ No!” Jace st art ed f or war d, t hen fr oze as Cl ary was whi pped up i nt o t he air, wher e she hover ed, dangli ng i n fr ont
of Lilit h. She was bar ef oot, her sati n dr ess —no w so t or n and filt hy it l ooked r ed and bl ack r at her t han gol d —
swirling around her, one of her shoulder straps torn and dangling. Her hair had come completely out of its
sparkling combs and spilled down over her shoulders. Her green eyes fixed on Lilith with hatred.
“You bit ch,” she sai d.
Jace’s face was a mask of horror. He really had believed it when he’d said Clary was gone, Simon realized. He’d
t hought she was saf e. But Lilit h had been ri ght. And she was gl oati ng no w, her snake’ s eyes danci ng as she
moved her hands li ke a puppet eer, and Cl ary spun and gasped i n t he air. Lilit h fli cked her fi ngers, and what
l ooked li ke t he l ash of a sil ver whi p ca me do wn acr oss Cl ary’ s body, sli ci ng her dr ess open, and t he ski n under it.
She scr ea med and cl ut ched at t he wound, and her bl ood patt er ed do wn on t he til es li ke scarl et r ai n.
“ Cl ary.” Jace whirl ed on Lilit h. “ All ri ght,” he sai d. He was pal e no w, hi s br avado gone; hi s hands, cl enched i nt o
fi st s, wer e whit e at t he knuckl es. “ All ri ght. Let her go, and I’ll do what you want —so will Si mon. We’ll l et you —”
“Le tme?” So meho w t he f eat ur es of Lilit h’ s f ace had r earr anged t he msel ves. Snakes wri ggl ed i n t he socket s of
her eyes, her whit e ski n was t oo str et ched and shi ni ng, her mout h t oo wi de. Her nose had nearl y vani shed. “ You
have no choi ce. And mor e t o t he poi nt, you have annoyed me. All of you. Per haps if you had si mpl y done as I’ d
or der ed, I woul d have l et you go. You will never kno w no w, will you?”
Si mon l et go of t he st one pedest al, s wayed, and st eadi ed hi mself. Then he began t o wal k. Putti ng hi s f eet do wn,
one aft er t he ot her, f elt li ke heavi ng enor mous bags of packed wet sand do wn t he si de of a cliff. Each ti me hi s f oot
hit t he gr ound, it sent a st ab of pai n t hr ough hi s body. He concentr at ed on movi ng f or war d, one st ep at a ti me.
“ Maybe I can’t kill you,” Lilit h sai d t o Jace. “ But I can t ort ur e her past t he poi nt of her endur ance —t ort ur e her t o
madness—and make you watch. There are worse things than death, Shadowhunter.”
She fli cked her fi ngers agai n, and t he sil ver whi p ca me do wn, sl ashi ng acr oss Cl ary’ s shoul der t hi s ti me, openi ng
up a wi de gash. Cl ary buckl ed but di dn’t scr ea m, j a mmi ng her hands i nt o her mout h, curli ng i n on herself as if she
coul d pr ot ect herself fr o m Lilit h.
Jace st art ed f or war d t o t hr o w hi mself at Lilit h —and sa w Si mon. Their gazes met. For a mo ment t he worl d see med
t o hang i n suspensi on, all of it, not j ust Cl ary. Si mon sa w Lilit h, all her att enti on f ocused on Cl ary, her hand dr a wn
back, r eady t o deli ver an even mor e vi ci ous bl o w. Jace’ s f ace was whit e wit h angui sh, hi s eyes darkeni ng as t hey
met Simon’s—and he realized—and understood.
Jace stepped back.
The worl d bl urr ed ar ound Si mon. As he l eaped f or war d, he r eali zed t wo t hi ngs. One, t hat it was i mpossi bl e, he
woul d never r each Lilit h i n ti me; her hand was alr eady whi ppi ng f or war d, t he air i n fr ont of her ali ve wit h whirli ng
sil ver. And t wo, t hat he had never underst ood bef or e quit e ho w f ast a va mpir e coul d move. He f elt t he muscl es i n
hi s l egs, hi s back, t ear, t he bones i n hi s f eet and ankl es cr ack —
And he was t her e, sli di ng bet ween Lilit h and Cl ary as t he de moness’ s hand ca me do wn. The l ong, r azor ed sil ver
wir e str uck hi m acr oss t he f ace and chest —t her e was a mo ment of shocki ng pai n —and t hen t he air see med t o
burst apart ar ound hi m li ke glitt eri ng conf etti, and Si mon hear d Cl ary scr ea m, a cl ear sound of shock and
a maze ment t hat cut t hr ough t he darkness. “ Si mon!”
Lilit h fr oze. She st ar ed fr o m Si mon, t o Cl ary, still hangi ng i n t he air, and t hen do wn at her o wn hand, no w e mpt y.
She drew in a long, ragged breath.
“ Sevenf ol d,” she whi sper ed —and was abr uptl y cut off as a bli ndi ng i ncandescence lit up t he ni ght. Dazed, all
Si mon coul d t hi nk of was ant s bur ni ng under t he concentr at ed bea m fr o m a magnif yi ng gl ass as a gr eat r ay of fir e
pl unged do wn fr o m t he sky, speari ng t hr ough Lilit h. For a l ong mo ment she bur ned whit e agai nst t he darkness,
tr apped wit hi n t he bli ndi ng fl a me, her mout h open li ke a t unnel i n a sil ent scr ea m. Her hair lift ed, a mass of bur ni ng
fil a ment s agai nst t he darkness —and t hen she was whit e gol d, beat en t hi n agai nst t he air —and t hen she was salt,
a t housand cryst alli ne gr anul es of salt t hat r ai ned do wn at Si mon’ s f eet wit h a dr eadf ul sort of beaut y.
And then she was gone.
19
HELL I S SATI SFI ED
The uni magi nabl e brilli ance pri nt ed on t he back of Cl ar y’ s eyelids faded into darkness. A surprisingly long
darkness t hat gave way sl o wl y t o an i nt er mitt ent gr ayi sh li ght, bl ot ched wit h shado ws. Ther e was so met hi ng har d
and cold pressing into her back, and her whole body hurt. She heard murmured voices above her, which sent a
st ab of pai n t hr ough her head. So meone t ouched her gentl y on t he t hr oat, and t he hand was wit hdr a wn. She t ook a
deep breath.
Her whole body was throbbing. She opened her eyes to slits, and looked around her, trying not to move very
much. She was l yi ng on t he har d til es of t he r ooft op gar den, one of t he pavi ng st ones di ggi ng i nt o her back. She
had fallen to the ground when Lilith vanished, and was covered in cuts and bruises, her shoes were gone, her
knees were bleeding, and her dress was slashed where Lilith had cut her with the magical whip, blood welling
t hr ough t he r ent s i n her sil k dr ess.
Si mon was kneeli ng over her, hi s f ace anxi ous. The Mark of Cai n still gl ea med whit el y on hi s f or ehead. “ Her pul se
i s st eady,” he was sayi ng, “ but co me on. You’r e supposed t o have all t hose heali ng r unes. Ther e must be
so met hi ng you can do f or her —”
“ Not wit hout a st el e. Lilit h made me t hr o w Cl ary’ s a way so she coul dn’t gr ab it fr o m me when she woke up.” The
voi ce was Jace’ s, l o w and t ense wit h suppr essed angui sh. He knelt acr oss fr o m Si mon, on her ot her si de, hi s
f ace i n shado w. “ Can you carry her do wnst airs? If we can get her t o t he I nstit ut e —”
“You want me t o carry her ?” Si mon sounded sur pri sed; Cl ary di dn’t bl a me hi m.
“I doubt she’ d want me t ouchi ng her.” Jace st ood up, as if he coul dn’t bear t o r e mai n i n one pl ace. “If you coul d —”
Hi s voi ce cr acked, and he t ur ned a way, st ari ng at t he pl ace wher e Lilit h had st ood until a mo ment ago, a bar e
pat ch of st one no w sil ver ed wit h scatt er ed mol ecul es of salt. Cl ary hear d Si mon si gh —a deli ber at e sound —and
he bent over her, hi s hands on her ar ms.
She opened her eyes t he r est of t he way, and t heir gazes met. Though she kne w he r eali zed she was consci ous,
neit her of t he m sai d anyt hi ng. It was har d f or her t o l ook at hi m, at t hat f a mili ar f ace wit h t he mark she had gi ven
hi m bl azi ng li ke a whit e st ar above hi s eyes.
She had kno wn, gi vi ng hi m t he Mark of Cai n, t hat she was doi ng so met hi ng enor mous, so met hi ng t errif yi ng and
col ossal whose out co me was al most t ot all y unpr edi ct abl e. She woul d have done it agai n, t o save hi s lif e. But still,
whil e he’ d been st andi ng t her e, t he Mark bur ni ng li ke whit e li ght ni ng as Lilit h —a Gr eat er De mon as ol d as
manki nd it self —charr ed a way t o salt, she had t hought, What have I done?
“I’ m all ri ght,” she sai d. She lift ed herself up ont o her el bo ws; t hey hurt horri bl y. At so me poi nt she’ d l anded on
t he m and scr aped off all t he ski n. “I can wal k j ust fi ne.”
At t he sound of her voi ce, Jace t ur ned. The si ght of hi m t or e at her. He was shocki ngl y br ui sed and bl oody, a l ong
scr at ch r unni ng t he l engt h of hi s cheek, hi s l o wer li p s woll en, and a dozen bl eedi ng r ent s i n hi s cl ot hes. She wasn’t
used t o seei ng hi m so da maged —but of course, if he di dn’t have a st el e t o heal her, he di dn’t have one t o heal
hi mself, eit her.
Hi s expr essi on was absol ut el y bl ank. Even Cl ary, used t o r eadi ng hi s f ace as if she wer e r eadi ng t he pages of a
book, coul d r ead not hi ng i n it. Hi s gaze dr opped t o her t hr oat, wher e she coul d still f eel t he sti ngi ng pai n, t he bl ood
cr usti ng t her e wher e hi s knif e had cut her. The not hi ngness of hi s expr essi on cr acked, and he l ooked a way bef or e
she could see his face change.
Wavi ng a way Si mon’ s off er of a hel pi ng hand, she tri ed t o ri se t o her f eet. A seari ng pai n shot t hr ough her ankl e,
and she cri ed out, t hen bit her li p. Shado whunt ers di dn’t scr ea m i n pai n. They bor e it st oi call y, she r e mi nded
herself. No whi mperi ng.
“It’ s my ankl e,” she sai d. “I t hi nk it mi ght be spr ai ned, or br oken.”
Jace l ooked at Si mon. “ Carry her,” he sai d. “ Li ke I t ol d you.”
Thi s ti me Si mon di dn’t wait f or Cl ary’ s r esponse; he sli d one ar m under her knees and t he ot her under her
shoulders and lifted her; she looped her arms around his neck and held on tight. Jace headed toward the cupola
and the doors that led inside. Simon followed, carrying Clary as carefully as if she were breakable porcelain. Clary
had al most f or gott en ho w str ong he was, no w t hat he was a va mpir e. He no l onger s mell ed li ke hi mself, she
t hought, a littl e wi stf ull y —t hat Si mon-s mell of soap and cheap aft ershave (t hat he r eall y di dn’t need) and hi s
f avorit e ci nna mon gu m. Hi s hair still s mell ed li ke hi s sha mpoo, but ot her wi se he see med t o have no s mell at all,
and hi s ski n wher e she t ouched it was col d. She ti ght ened her ar ms ar ound hi s neck, wi shi ng he had so me body
heat. The ti ps of her fi ngers l ooked bl ui sh, and her body f elt nu mb.
Jace, ahead of t he m, shoul der ed t he gl ass doubl e doors open. Then t hey wer e i nsi de, wher e it was mercif ull y
sli ghtl y war mer. It was str ange, Cl ary t hought, bei ng hel d by so meone whose chest di dn’t ri se and f all as t hey
br eat hed. A str ange el ectri cit y still see med t o cli ng t o Si mon, a r e mnant of t he br ut all y shi ni ng li ght t hat had
enveloped the roof when Lilith was destroyed. She wanted to ask him how he was feeling, but Jace’s silence was
so devast ati ngl y t ot al t hat she f elt afr ai d t o br eak it.
He r eached f or t he el evat or call butt on, but bef or e hi s fi nger t ouched it, t he doors sli d open of t heir o wn accor d,
and Isabelle seemed to almost explode through them, her silvery-gold whip trailing behind her like the tail of a
co met. Al ec f oll o wed, har d on her heel s; seei ng Jace, Cl ary, and Si mon t her e, Isabell e ski dded t o a st op, Al ec
nearl y cr ashi ng i nt o her fr o m behi nd. Under ot her circu mst ances it woul d al most have been f unny.
“But—,” Isabelle gasped. She was cut and bloodied, her beautiful red dress torn raggedly around the knees, her
bl ack hair havi ng co me do wn out of it s updo, str ands of it matt ed wit h bl ood. Al ec l ooked as if he had f ar ed onl y a
littl e bett er; one sl eeve of hi s j acket was sli ced open do wn t he si de, t hough it di dn’t l ook as if t he ski n beneat h had
been injured. “What are ydoouing here?”
Jace, Cl ary, and Si mon all st ar ed at her bl ankl y, t oo shell-shocked t o r espond. Fi nall y Jace sai d dryl y, “ We coul d
ask you t he sa me questi on.”
“I di dn’t —We t hought you and Cl ary wer e at t he part y,” Isabell e sai d. Cl ary had r ar el y seen Isabell e so not selfpossessed.
“We were looking for Simon.”
Cl ary f elt Si mon’ s chest lift, a sort of r efl exi ve hu man gasp of sur pri se. “ You wer e ?”
Isabell e fl ushed. “I . . .”
“Jace?” It was Al ec, hi s t one co mmandi ng. He had gi ven Cl ary and Si mon an ast oni shed l ook, but t hen hi s
att enti on went, as it al ways di d, t o Jace. He mi ght not be i n l ove wit h Jace any mor e, if he ever r eall y had been, but
t hey wer e still par abat ai, and Jace was al ways first on hi s mi nd i n any battl e. “ What ar e you doi ng her e? And f or
the Angel’s sake, what happened to you?”
Jace st ar ed at Al ec, al most as if he di dn’t kno w hi m. He l ooked li ke so meone i n a ni ght mar e, exa mi ni ng a ne w
landscape not because it was surprising or dramatic but to prepare himself for whatever horrors it might reveal.
“ St el e,” he sai d fi nall y, i n a cr acki ng voi ce. “ Do you have your st el e?”
Al ec r eached f or hi s belt, l ooki ng baffl ed. “ Of course.” He hel d t he st el e out t o Jace. “If you need iraant ze —”
“ Not f or me,” Jace sai d, still i n t he sa me odd, cr acked voi ce. “ Her.” He poi nt ed at Cl ary. “ She needs it mor e t han I
do.” Hi s eyes met Al ec’ s, gol d and bl ue. “ Pl ease, Al ec,” he sai d, t he harshness gone fr o m hi s voi ce as suddenl y
as it had co me. “ Hel p her f or me.”
He t ur ned and wal ked a way, t o war d t he f ar si de of t he r oo m, wher e t he gl ass doors wer e. He st ood, st ari ng
t hr ough t he m—at t he gar den out si de or hi s o wn r efl ecti on, Cl ary coul dn’t t ell.
Al ec l ooked aft er Jace f or a mo ment, t hen ca me t o war d Cl ary and Si mon, st el e i n hand. He i ndi cat ed t hat Si mon
shoul d l o wer Cl ary t o t he fl oor, whi ch he di d gentl y, l etti ng her br ace her back agai nst t he wall. He st epped back
as Al ec knelt do wn over her. She coul d see t he conf usi on i n Al ec’ s f ace, and hi s l ook of sur pri se as he sa w ho w
bad t he cut s acr oss her ar m and abdo men wer e. “ Who di d t hi s t o you?”
“I —” Cl ary l ooked hel pl essl y t o war d Jace, who still had hi s back t o t he m. She coul d see hi s r efl ecti on i n t he gl ass
doors, hi s f ace a whit e s mudge, darkened her e and t her e wit h br ui ses. The fr ont of hi s shirt was dark wit h bl ood.
“It’ s har d t o expl ai n.”
“ Why di dn’t you su mmon us?” Isabell e de manded, her voi ce t hi n wit h betr ayal. “ Why di dn’t you t ell us you wer e
coming here? Why didn’t you send a fire-message, or anything? You know we would have come if you needed
us.”
“ Ther e wasn’t ti me,” Si mon sai d. “ And I di dn’t kno w Cl ary and Jace wer e goi ng t o be her e. I t hought I was t he onl y
one. It di dn’t see m ri ght t o dr ag you i nt o my pr obl e ms.”
“D-drag me into your problems?” Isabelle sputtered. “You—,” she began—and then to everyone’s surprise, clearly
including her own, she flung herself at Simon, wrapping her arms around his neck. He staggered backward,
unprepared for the assault, but he recovered quickly enough. His arms went around her, nearly snagging on the
dangli ng whi p, and he hel d her ti ghtl y, her dark head j ust under hi s chi n. Cl ary coul dn’t quit e t ell —Isabell e was
speaki ng t oo softl y —but it sounded li ke she was s weari ng at Si mon under her br eat h.
Alec’s eyebrows went up, but he made no comment as he bent over Clary, blocking her view of Isabelle and
Si mon. He t ouched t he st el e t o her ski n, and she j u mped at t he sti ngi ng pai n. “I kno w it hurt s,” he sai d i n a l o w
voi ce. “I t hi nk you hit your head. Magnus ought t o l ook at you. What about Jace? Ho w badl y i s he hurt ?”
“I don’t kno w.” Cl ary shook her head. “ He won’t l et me near hi m.”
Al ec put hi s hand under her chi n, t ur ni ng her f ace fr o m si de t o si de, and sket ched a second li ght ir at ze on t he si de
of her t hr oat, j ust under her j a wli ne. “ What di d he do t hat he t hi nks was so t erri bl e?”
She fli cked her eyes up t o war d hi m. “ What makes you t hi nk he di d anyt hi ng?”
Al ec l et go of her chi n. “ Because I kno w hi m. And t he way he puni shes hi mself. Not l etti ng you near hi m i s
punishing hi mself, not punishing you.”
“He doesnw’at nt me near hi m,” Cl ary sai d, heari ng t he r ebelli ousness i n her o wn voi ce and hati ng herself f or
being petty.
“ You’r e all he ever want s,” sai d Al ec i n a sur pri si ngl y gentl e t one, and he sat back on hi s heel s, pushi ng hi s l ong
dark hair out of hi s eyes. Ther e was so met hi ng diff er ent about hi m t hese days, Cl ary t hought, a sur et y about
hi mself he hadn’t had when she had first met hi m, so met hi ng t hat all o wed hi m t o be gener ous wit h ot hers as he
had never been generous with himself before. “How did you two wind up here, anyway? We didn’t even notice you
l eave t he part y wit h Si mon —”
“They didn’t,” said Simon. He and Isabelle had detachedt he msel ves, but still st ood cl ose t o each ot her, si de by
si de. “I ca me her e al one. Well, not exactl y al one. I was —su mmoned.”
Cl ary nodded. “It’ s tr ue. We di dn’t l eave t he part y wit h hi m. When Jace br ought me her e, I had no i dea Si mon was
goi ng t o be her e t oo.”
“Jace br ought you her e?” Isabell e sai d, a mazed. “Jace, if you kne w about Lilit h and t he Church of Talt o, you
should have said something.”
Jace was still st ari ng t hr ough t he doors. “I guess it sli pped my mi nd,” he sai d t onel essl y.
Cl ary shook her head as Al ec and Isabell e l ooked fr o m t heir adopti ve br ot her t o her, as if f or an expl anati on of hi s
behavi or. “It wasn’t r eall y Jace,” she sai d fi nall y. “ He was . . . bei ng contr oll ed. By Lilit h.”
“Possession?” Isabelle’s eyes rounded into surprised Os. Her hand tightened on her whip handle reflexively.
Jace t ur ned a way fr o m t he doors. Sl o wl y he r eached up and dr e w open hi s mangl ed shirt so t hat t hey coul d see
t he ugl y possessi on r une, and t he bl oody sl ash t hat r an t hr ough it. “ That,” he sai d, still i n t he sa me t onel ess voi ce,
“i s Lilit h’ s mark. It’ s ho w she contr oll ed me.”
Alec shook his head; he looked deeply disturbed. “Jace, usually the only way to sever a demonic connection like
t hat i s t o kill t he de mon who’ s doi ng t he contr olli ng. Lilit h i s one of t he most po werf ul de mons who ever —”
“ She’ s dead,” sai d Cl ary abr uptl y. “ Si mon kill ed her. Or I guess you coul d say t he Mark of Cai n kill ed her.”
They all st ar ed at Si mon. “ And what about you t wo? Ho w di d you end up her e?” he asked, hi s t one def ensi ve.
“ Looki ng f or you,” Isabell e sai d. “ We f ound t hat car d Lilit h must have gi ven you. I n your apart ment. Jor dan l et us i n.
He’s with Maia, downstairs.” She shuddered. “The things Lilith’s been doing—you wouldn’t believe—so horri bl e
—”
Al ec hel d hi s hands up. “ Sl o w do wn, everyone. We’ll expl ai n what happened wit h us, and t hen Si mon, Cl ary, you
explain what happened on your end.”
The expl anati on t ook l ess ti me t han Cl ary t hought it woul d, wit h Isabell e doi ng much of t he t al ki ng wit h wi de,
s weepi ng hand gest ur es t hat t hr eat ened, on occasi on, t o sever one of her fri ends’ unpr ot ect ed li mbs wit h her
whi p. Al ec t ook t he opport unit y t o go out ont o t he r oof deck t o send a fir e- message t o t he Cl ave t elli ng t he m wher e
t hey wer e and aski ng f or backup. Jace st epped asi de wor dl essl y t o l et hi m by as he l eft, and agai n when he ca me
back i n. He di dn’t speak duri ng Si mon and Cl ary’ s expl anati on of what had happened on t he r ooft op eit her, even
when t hey got t o t he part about Razi el havi ng r ai sed Jace fr o m t he dead back i n I dri s. It was Izzy who fi nall y
interrupted, when Clary began to explain about Lilith being Sebastian’s “mother” and keeping his body encased in
glass.
“Sebastian?” Isabelle slammed her whip against the ground with enough force to open up a crack in the marble.
“Sebastian i s out t her e? And he’ s not dead?” She t ur ned t o l ook at Jace, who was l eani ng agai nst t he gl ass
doors, ar ms cr ossed, expr essi onl ess. “I sa w hi m di e. I sa w Jace cut hi s spi ne i n half, and I sa w hi m f all i nt o t he
ri ver. And no w you’r e t elli ng me he’asli ve out t her e?”
“ No,” Si mon hast ened t o r eassur e her. “ Hi s body’ s t her e, but he’ s not ali ve. Lilit h di dn’t get t o co mpl et e t he
cer e mony.” Si mon put a hand on her shoul der, but she shook it off. She had gone a deadl y whit e col or.
“‘ Not r eall y ali ve’ i sn’t dead enough f or me,” she sai d. “I’ m goi ng out t her e and I’ m goi ng t o cut hi m i nt o a t housand
pi eces.” She t ur ned t o war d t he doors.
“Iz!” Si mon put hi s hand on her shoul der. “Izzy. No.”
“No?” She looked at him incredulously. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t chop him into worthlessbast
ar d-t he med conf etti.”
Si mon’ s eyes dart ed ar ound t he r oo m, r esti ng f or a mo ment on Jace, as if he expect ed hi m t o chi me i n or add a
co mment. He di dn’t; he di dn’t even move. Fi nall y Si mon sai d, “ Look, you underst and about t he rit ual, ri ght ?
Because Jace was br ought back fr o m t he dead, t hat gave Lilit h t he po wer t o r ai se Sebasti an. And t o do t hat, she
needed Jace there and alive, as—what did she call it—”
“ A count er wei ght,” put i n Cl ary.
“ That mark t hat Jace has on hi s chest. Lilit h’ s mark.” I n a see mi ngl y unconsci ous gest ur e, Si mon t ouched hi s o wn
chest, j ust over t he heart. “ Sebasti an has it t oo. I sa w t he m bot h fl ash at t he sa me ti me when Jace st epped i nt o t he
circle.”
Isabell e, her whi p t wit chi ng at her si de, her t eet h biti ng i nt o her r ed bott o m li p, sai d i mpati entl y, “ And?”
“I t hi nk she was maki ng a ti e bet ween t he m,” sai d Si mon. “If Jace di ed, Sebasti an coul dn’t li ve. So if you cut
Sebastian into pieces—”
“It coul d hurt Jace,” Cl ary sai d, t he wor ds spilli ng out of her as she r eali zed. “ Oh, my God. Oh, Izzy, you can’t.”
“ So we’r e j ust goi ng t o l et hilimv e ?” Isabelle sounded incredulous.
“ Cut hi m t o pi eces if you li ke,” Jace sai d. “ You have my per mi ssi on.”
“ Shut up,” sai d Al ec. “ St op acti ng li ke your lif e doesn’t matt er. Iz, wer en’t you li st eni ng? Sebasti an’ s not ali ve.”
“ He’ s not dead, eit her. Not deaed nough .”
“ We need t he Cl ave,” sai d Al ec. “ We need t o gi ve hi m over t o t he Sil ent Br ot hers. They can sever hi s connecti on
t o Jace, and t hen you’ll get all t he bl ood you want, Iz. He’ s Valentine’s son. And he’s a murderer. Everyone lost
so meone i n t he battl e i n Ali cant e, or kno ws so meone who di d. You t hi nk t hey’ll be ki nd t o hi m? They’ll t ake hi m
apart sl o wl y whil e he’ s still li vi ng.”
Isabell e st ar ed up at her br ot her. Very sl o wl y t ears well ed i n her eyes, spilli ng do wn her cheeks, str eaki ng t he dirt
and bl ood on her ski n. “I hat e it,” she sai d. “I hat e it when you’r e ri ght.”
Al ec pull ed hi s si st er cl oser and ki ssed t he t op of her head. “I kno w you do.”
She squeezed her br ot her’ s hand bri efl y, t hen dr e w back. “ Fi ne,” she sai d. “I won’t t ouch Sebasti an. But I can’t
st and t o be t hi s cl ose t o hi m.” She gl anced t o war d t he gl ass doors, wher e Jace still st ood. “ Let’ s go do wnst airs.
We can wait for the Clave in the lobby. And we need to get Maia and Jordan; they’re probably wondering where
we went.”
Si mon cl ear ed hi s t hr oat. “ So meone shoul d st ay up her e j ust t o keep an eye on —on t hi ngs. I’ll do it.”
“ No.” It was Jace. “ You go do wnst airs. I’ll st ay. All of t hi s i s my f ault. I shoul d have made sur e Sebasti an was dead
when I had t he chance. And as f or t he r est of it . . .”
Hi s voi ce tr ail ed off. But Cl ary r e me mber ed hi m t ouchi ng her f ace i n a dark hall way i n t he I nstit ut e, r e me mber ed
hi m whi speri ng, Mea cul pa, mea maxi ma cul pa.
My f ault, my f ault, my o wn most gri evous f ault.
She t ur ned t o l ook at t he ot hers; Isabell e had pushed t he call butt on, whi ch was lit. Cl ary coul d hear t he di st ant hu m
of the rising elevator. Isabelle’s brow creased. “Alec, maybe you should stay up here with Jace.”
“I don’t need hel p,” Jace sai d. “ Ther e’ s not hi ng t o handl e. I’ll be fi ne.”
Isabell e t hr e w her hands up as t he el evat or arri ved wit h a pi ng. “ Fi ne. You wi n. Sul k up her e al one if you want.” She
st al ked i nt o t he el evat or, Si mon and Al ec cr o wdi ng i n aft er her. Cl ary was t he l ast t o f oll o w, t ur ni ng back t o l ook at
Jace as she went. He had gone back t o st ari ng at t he doors, but she coul d see hi s r efl ecti on i n t he m. Hi s mout h
was compressed into a bloodless line, his eyes dark.
Jace, she t hought as t he el evat or doors began t o cl ose. She will ed hi m t o t ur n, t o l ook at her. He di dn’t, but she f elt
strong hands suddenly on her shoulders, shoving her forward. She heard Isabelle say, “Alec, what on earth are you
—” as she st u mbl ed t hr ough t he el evat or doors and ri ght ed herself, t ur ni ng t o st ar e. The doors wer e cl osi ng
behi nd her, but t hr ough t he m she coul d see Al ec. He gave her a r uef ul littl e half s mil e and a shr ug, as if t o say,
What else was I supposed to do? Clary stepped forward, but it was too late; the elevator doors had clanged shut.
She was al one i n t he r oo m wit h Jace.
The room was littered with dead bodies—crumpled figures all in gray hooded tracksuits, flung or crumpled or
sl u mped agai nst t he wall. Mai a st ood by t he wi ndo w, br eat hi ng har d, l ooki ng out acr oss t he scene i n fr ont of her
wit h di sbeli ef. She had t aken part i n t he battl e at Br oceli nd i n I dri s, and had t hought t hat was t he worst t hi ng she
woul d ever see. But so meho w t hi s was worse. The bl ood t hat r an fr o m dead cult me mbers wasn’t de mon i chor; it
was human blood. And the babi es —sil ent and dead i n t heir cri bs, t heir s mall t al oned hands f ol ded one over t he
ot her, li ke doll s . . .
She l ooked do wn at her o wn hands. Her cl a ws wer e still out, st ai ned wit h bl ood fr o m ti p t o r oot; she r etr act ed
t he m, and t he bl ood r an do wn her pal ms, st ai ni ng her wri st s. Her f eet wer e bar e and bl oodst ai ned, and t her e was
a l ong scr at ch al ong one bar e shoul der still oozi ng r ed, t hough it had alr eady begun t o heal. Despit e t he s wift
healing lycanthropy provided, she knew she’d wake up tomorrow covered in bruises. When you were a werewolf,
bruises rarely lasted more than a day. She remembered when she had been human, and her brother, Daniel, had
made hi mself an expert i n pi nchi ng her har d i n pl aces wher e t he br ui ses woul dn’t sho w.
“ Mai a.” Jor dan ca me i n t hr ough one of t he unfi ni shed doors, ducki ng a bundl e of dangli ng wir es. He str ai ght ened
up and moved t o war d her, pi cki ng hi s way a mong t he bodi es. “ Ar e you all ri ght ?”
The l ook of concer n on hi s f ace knott ed her st o mach.
“Where are Isabelle and Alec?”
He shook hi s head. He had sust ai ned much l ess vi si bl e da mage t han she had. Hi s t hi ck l eat her j acket had
protected him, as had his jeans and boots. There was a long scrape along his cheek, dried blood in his light
br o wn hair and st ai ni ng t he bl ade of t he knif e he hel d. “I’ ve searched t he whol e fl oor. Haven’t seen t he m. Coupl e
mor e bodi es i n t he ot her r oo ms. They mi ght have —”
The ni ght lit up li ke a ser aph bl ade. The wi ndo ws went whit e, and bri ght li ght sear ed t hr ough t he r oo m. For a
mo ment Mai a t hought t he worl d had caught on fir e, and Jor dan, movi ng t o war d her t hr ough t he li ght, see med
al most t o di sappear, whit e on whit e, i nt o a shi mmeri ng fi el d of sil ver. She hear d herself scr ea m, and she moved
blindly backward, banging her head on the plate glass window. She put her hands up to cover her eyes—
And t he li ght was gone. Mai a l o wer ed her hands, t he worl d s wi ngi ng ar ound her. She r eached out bli ndl y, and
Jor dan was t her e. She put her ar ms ar ound hi m—t hr e w t he m ar ound hi m, t he way she used t o when he ca me t o
pi ck her up fr o m her house, and he woul d s wi ng her i nt o hi s ar ms, wi ndi ng t he curl s of her hair t hr ough hi s fi ngers.
He had been slighter then, narrow-shouldered. Now muscle corded his bones, and holding him was like holding
on t o so met hi ng absol ut el y soli d, a pill ar of gr anit e i n t he mi dst of a bl o wi ng desert sandst or m. She cl ung on t o
hi m, and hear d t he beat of hi s heart under her ear as hi s hands s moot hed her hair, one r ough, soot hi ng str oke at a
ti me, co mf orti ng and . . . f a mili ar. “ Mai a . . . it’ s all ri ght . . .”
She r ai sed her head and pr essed her mout h t o hi s. He had changed i n so many ways, but t he f eel of ki ssi ng hi m
was t he sa me, hi s mout h as soft as ever. He went ri gi d f or a second wit h sur pri se, and t hen gat her ed her up
agai nst hi m, hi s hands str oki ng sl o w circl es on her bar e back. She r e me mber ed t he first ti me t hey had ever
ki ssed. She had handed hi m her earri ngs t o put i n t he gl ove co mpart ment of hi s car, and hi s hand had shaken so
badly he’d dropped them and then apologized and apologized until she kissed him to shut him up. She’d thought
he was t he s weet est boy she’ d ever kno wn.
And t hen he was bitt en, and everyt hi ng changed.
She dr e w a way, di zzy and br eat hi ng har d. He l et her go i nst antl y; he was st ari ng at her, hi s mout h open, hi s eyes
dazed. Behi nd hi m, t hr ough t he wi ndo w, she coul d see t he cit y —she had half expect ed it t o be fl att ened, a bl ast ed
whit e desert out si de t he wi ndo w —but everyt hi ng was exactl y t he sa me. Not hi ng had changed. Li ght s bli nked on
and off i n t he buil di ngs acr oss t he str eet; she coul d hear t he f ai nt r ush of tr affi c bel o w. “ We shoul d go,” she sai d.
“ We shoul d l ook f or t he ot hers.”
“ Mai a,” he sai d. “ Why di d you j ust ki ss me?”
“I don’t kno w,” she sai d. “ Do you t hi nk we shoul d try t he el evat ors?”
“Maia—”
“I don’kt now , Jor dan,” she sai d. “I don’t kno w why I ki ssed you, and I don’t kno w if I’ m goi ng t o do it agai n, but I do
kno w I’ m fr eaked out and worri ed about my fri ends and I want t o get out of her e. Okay?”
He nodded. He l ooked li ke t her e wer e a milli on t hi ngs he want ed t o say but had det er mi ned not t o say t he m, f or
whi ch she was gr at ef ul. He r an a hand t hr ough hi s t ousl ed hair, ri med whit e wit h pl ast er dust, and nodded. “ Okay.”
Sil ence. Jace was still l eani ng agai nst t he door, onl y no w he had hi s f or ehead pr essed agai nst it, hi s eyes cl osed.
Cl ary wonder ed if he even kne w she was i n t he r oo m wit h hi m. She t ook a st ep f or war d, but bef or e she coul d say
anything, he pushed the doors open and walked back out into the garden.
She st ood still f or a mo ment, st ari ng aft er hi m. She coul d call f or t he el evat or, of course, ri de it do wn, wait f or t he
Cl ave i n t he l obby wit h everyone el se. If Jace di dn’t want t o t al k, he di dn’t want t o t al k. She coul dn’t f orce hi m t o. If
Al ec was ri ght, and he was puni shi ng hi mself, she’ d j ust have t o wait until he got over it.
She t ur ned t o war d t he el evat or —and st opped. A littl e fl a me of anger li cked it s way t hr ough her, maki ng her eyes
burn. No , she t hought. She di dn’t have t o l et hi m behave li ke t hi s. Maybe he coul d be t hi s way t o everyone el se,
but not t o her. He o wed her bett er t han t hat. They o wed each ot her bett er t han t hat.
She whirl ed and made her way t o t he doors. Her ankl e still ached, but t he ir at zes Al ec had put on her wer e
worki ng. Most of t he pai n i n her body had subsi ded t o a dull, t hr obbi ng ache. She r eached t he doors and pushed
t he m open, st eppi ng ont o t he r oof t err ace wit h a wi nce as her bar e f eet ca me i nt o cont act wit h t he fr eezi ng til es.
She sa w Jace i mmedi at el y; he was kneeli ng near t he st eps, on til es st ai ned wit h bl ood and i chor and glitt eri ng
wit h salt. He r ose as she appr oached, and he t ur ned, so met hi ng shi ny dangli ng fr o m hi s hand.
The Mor genst er n ri ng, on it s chai n.
The wi nd had co me up; it bl e w hi s dark gol d hair acr oss hi s f ace. He pushed it a way i mpati entl y and sai d, “I j ust
r e me mber ed t hat we l eft t hi s her e.”
His voice sounded surprisingly normal.
“Is t hat why you want ed t o st ay up her e?” sai d Cl ary. “ To get it back?”
He t ur ned hi s hand, so t he chai n s wung up war d, hi s fi ngers cl osi ng over t he ri ng. “I’ m att ached t o it. It’ s st upi d, I
know.”
“You could have said, or Alec could have stayed—”
“I don’t bel ong wit h t he r est of you,” he sai d abr uptl y. “ Aft er what I di d, I don’t deservire atzes and healing and hugs
and bei ng consol ed and what ever el se it i s my fri ends ar e goi ng t o t hi nk I need. I’ d r at her st ay up her e withih m .”
He jerked his chin toward the place where Sebastian’s motionless body lay int he open coffi n, on it s st one
pedestal. “And I sure as hell don’t deseryvoeu .”
Cl ary cr ossed her ar ms over her chest. “ Have you ever t hought about what I deserve? That maybe I deserve to get
a chance to talk to you about what happened?”
He st ar ed at her. They wer e onl y a f e w f eet apart, but it f elt as if an i nexpr essi bl e gulf l ay bet ween t he m. “I don’t
kno w why you woul d even want t o l ook at me, much l ess t al k t o me.”
“Jace,” she sai d. “ Those t hi ngs you di d —t hat wasny’to u .”
He hesit at ed. The sky was so bl ack, t he lit wi ndo ws of t he near by skyscr apers so bri ght, it was as if t hey st ood i n
t he cent er of a net of shi ni ng j e wel s. “If it wasn’t me,” he sai d, “t hen why can I r e me mber everything I did? When
people are possessed, and they come back from it, they don’t remember what they did when the demon inhabited
t he m. But I r e me mber everyt hi ng.” He t ur ned abr uptl y and wal ked a way, t o war d t he r oof gar den wall. She f oll o wed
hi m, gl ad f or t he di st ance it put bet ween t he m and Sebasti an’ s body, no w hi dden fr o m vi e w by a r o w of hedges.
“Jace!” she call ed out, and he t ur ned, hi s back t o t he wall, sl u mpi ng agai nst it. Behi nd hi m a cit y’ s wort h of
el ectri cit y lit up t he ni ght li ke t he de mon t o wers of Ali cant e. “ You r e me mber because she want ed you t o
r e me mber,” Cl ary sai d, cat chi ng up wit h hi m, a littl e br eat hl ess. “ She di d t hi s t o t ort ur e you as much as she di d it
t o get Si mon t o do what she want ed. She want ed you t o have t o wat ch yourself hurt t he peopl e you l ove.”
“I was wat chi ng,” he sai d i n a l o w voi ce. “It was as if so me part of me was off at a di st ance, wat chi ng and
scr ea mi ng at myself t o st op. But t he r est of me f elt co mpl et el y peacef ul and li ke what I was doi ng was ri ght. Li ke it
was t he onl y t hi ng I coul d do. I wonder if t hat’ s ho w Val enti ne f elt about everyt hi ng he di d. Li ke it was so easy t o be
ri ght.” He l ooked a way fr o m her. “I can’t st and it,” he sai d. “ You shoul dn’t be her e wit h me. You shoul d j ust go.”
Instead of leaving, Clary moved to stand beside him against the wall. Her arms were already wrapped around
herself; she was shi veri ng. Fi nall y, r el uct antl y, he t ur ned hi s head t o l ook at her agai n. “ Cl ary . . .”
“ You don’t get t o deci de,” she sai d, “ wher e I go, or when.”
“I kno w.” Hi s voi ce was r agged. “I’ ve al ways kno wn t hat about you. I don’t kno w why I had t o f all i n l ove wit h
so meone who’ s mor e st ubbor n t han I a m.”
Cl ary was sil ent a mo ment. Her heart had contr act ed at t hose t wo wor ds —“i n l ove.” “ All t hose t hi ngs you sai d t o
me,” she sai d i n a half whi sper, “ on t he t err ace at t he Ir onworks —di d you mean t he m?”
His golden eyes dulled. “Which things?”
That you l oved me, she al most sai d, but t hi nki ng back —he hadn’t sai d t hat, had he? Not t he wor ds t he msel ves.
The i mpli cati on had been t her e. And t he tr ut h of t he f act, t hat t hey l oved each ot her, was so met hi ng she kne w as
clearly as she knew her own name.
“ You kept aski ng me if I woul d l ove you if you wer e li ke Sebasti an, li ke Val enti ne.”
“ And you sai d t hen I woul dn’t be me. Look ho w wr ong t hat t ur ned out t o be,” he sai d, bitt er ness col ori ng hi s voi ce.
“ What I di d t oni ght —”
Cl ary moved t o war d hi m; he t ensed, but di dn’t move a way. She t ook hol d of t he fr ont of hi s shirt, l eaned i n cl osel y,
and sai d, enunci ati ng each wor d cl earl y, “ That wasn’t you.”
“ Tell t hat t o your mot her,” he sai d. “ Tell it t o Luke, when t hey ask wherte his came from.” He touched her collarbone
gentl y; t he wound was heal ed no w, but her ski n, and t he f abri c of her dr ess, wer e still st ai ned darkl y wit h bl ood.
“I’ll t ell t he m,” she sai d. “I’ll t ell t he m it was my f ault.”
He l ooked at her, gol d eyes i ncr edul ous. “ You can’t li e t o t he m.”
“I’ m not. I br ought you back,” she sai d. “ You wer e dead, and I br ought you back. I upset t he bal ance, not you. I
opened t he door f or Lilit h and her st upi d rit ual. I coul d have asked f or anyt hi ng, and I asked f or you.” She ti ght ened
her gri p on hi s shirt, her fi ngers whit e wit h col d and pr essur e. “ And I woul d do it again. I love you, Jace Wayland—
Her ondal e —Li ght wood —what ever you want t o call yourself. I don’t car e. I l ove you and I will al ways l ove you, and
pr et endi ng it coul d be any ot her way i s j ust a wast e of ti me.”
A l ook of such pai n cr ossed hi s f ace t hat Cl ary f elt her heart ti ght en. Then he r eached out and t ook her f ace
bet ween hi s hands. Hi s pal ms wer e war m agai nst her cheeks.
“ Re me mber when I t ol d you,” he sai d, hi s voi ce as soft as she had ever hear d it, “t hat I di dn’t kno w if t her e was a
God or not, but eit her way, we wer e co mpl et el y on our o wn? I still don’t kno w t he ans wer; I onl y kne w t hat t her e was
such a t hi ng as f ait h, and t hat I di dn’t deserve t o have it. And t hen t her e was you. You changed everyt hi ng I
beli eved i n. You kno w t hat li ne fr o m Dant e t hat I quot ed t o you i n t he park? ‘ L’ a mor che move il sol e e l’ altr e
st ell e ’?”
Her li ps curl ed a littl e at t he si des as she l ooked up at hi m. “I still don’t speak It ali an.”
“It’ s a bit of t he very l ast verse fr o m Par adi so —Dant e’ s Paradise. ‘ My will and my desir e wer e t ur ned by l ove, t he
l ove t hat moves t he sun and t he ot her st ars.’ Dant e was tryi ng t o expl ai n f ait h, I t hi nk, as an over po weri ng l ove, and
maybe it’ s bl asphe mous, but t hat’ s ho w I t hi nk of t he way t hat I l ove you. You ca me i nt o my lif e and suddenl y I had
one tr ut h t o hol d on t o —t hat I l oved you, and you l oved me.”
Though he see med t o be l ooki ng at her, hi s gaze was di st ant, as if fi xed on so met hi ng f ar a way.
“ Then I st art ed t o have t he dr ea ms,” he went on. “ And I t hought maybe I’ d been wr ong. That I di dn’t deserve you.
That I di dn’t deserve t o be perf ectl y happy —I mean, God, who deserves t hat ? And aft er t oni ght —”
“ St op.” She had been cl ut chi ng hi s shirt; she l oosened her gri p no w, fl att eni ng her hands agai nst hi s chest. Hi s
heart was r aci ng under her fi ngerti ps; hi s cheeks fl ushed, and not j ust fr o m t he col d. “Jace. Thr ough everyt hi ng t hat
happened t oni ght, I kne w one t hi ng. That it wasn’t you hurti ng me. It wasn’t you doi ng t hese t hi ngs. I have an
absolute incontrovertible belief that you are good. And t hat will never change.”
Jace t ook a deep, shudderi ng br eat h. “I don’t even kno w ho w t o try t o deserve t hat.”
“ You don’t have t o. I have enough f ait h i n you,” she sai d, “f or bot h of us.”
Hi s hands sli d i nt o her hair. The mi st of t heir exhal ed br eat h r ose bet ween t he m, a whit e cl oud. “I mi ssed you so
much,” he sai d, and ki ssed her, hi s mout h gentl e on hers, not desper at e and hungry t he way it had been t he l ast
f e w ti mes he had ki ssed her, but f a mili ar and t ender and soft.
She cl osed her eyes as t he worl d see med t o spi n ar ound her li ke a pi nwheel. Sli di ng her hands up hi s chest, she
str et ched up war d as f ar as she coul d, wr appi ng her ar ms ar ound hi s neck, ri si ng up on her t oes t o meet hi s mout h
wit h hers. Hi s fi ngers ski mmed do wn her body, over ski n and sati n, and she shi ver ed, l eani ng i nt o hi m, and she
was sur e t hey bot h t ast ed li ke bl ood and ashes and salt, but it di dn’t matt er; t he worl d, t he cit y, and all it s li ght s and
lif e see med t o have narr o wed do wn t o t hi s, j ust her and Jace, t he bur ni ng heart of a fr ozen worl d.
He dr e w a way first, r el uct antl y. She r eali zed why a mo ment l at er. The sound of honki ng cars and scr eechi ng tir es
from the street below was audible, even up here. “The Clave,” he said resignedly—though he had to clear his
t hr oat t o get t he wor ds out, Cl ary was pl eased t o hear. Hi s f ace was fl ushed, as she i magi ned hers was. “ They’r e
here.”
Wit h her hand i n hi s Cl ary l ooked over t he edge of t he r oof wall and sa w t hat a nu mber of l ong bl ack cars had
dr a wn up i n fr ont of t he scaff ol di ng. Peopl e wer e pili ng out. It was har d t o r ecogni ze t he m fr o m t hi s hei ght, but
Clary thought she saw Maryse, and several other people dressed in gear. A moment later Luke’s truck roared up
t o t he cur b and Jocel yn l eaped out. Cl ary woul d have kno wn it was her, j ust fr o m t he way she moved, at a gr eat er
di st ance t han t hi s one.
Cl ary t ur ned t o Jace. “ My mo m,” she sai d. “I’ d bett er get do wnst airs. I don’t want her co mi ng up her e and seei ng —
and seeing him.” She j erked her chi n t o war d Sebasti an’ s coffi n.
He str oked her hair back fr o m her f ace. “I don’t want t o l et you out of my si ght.”
“ Then, co me wit h me.”
“ No. So meone shoul d st ay up her e.” He t ook her hand, t ur ned it over, and dr opped t he Mor genst er n ri ng i nt o it, t he
chai n pooli ng li ke li qui d met al. The cl asp had bent when she’ d t or n it off, but he’ d managed t o push it back i nt o
shape. “ Pl ease t ake it.”
Her eyes fli cked do wn, and t hen, uncert ai nl y, back up t o hi s f ace. “I wi sh I underst ood what it meant t o you.”
He shr ugged sli ghtl y. “I wor e it f or a decade,” he sai d. “ So me part of me i s i n it. It means I tr ust you wit h my past
and all t he secr et s t hat past carri es. And besi des” —li ghtl y he t ouched one of t he st ars engr aved ar ound t he ri m
—“‘t he l ove t hat moves t he sun and all t he ot her st ars.’ Pr et end t hat t hat’ s what t he st ars st and f or, not
Mor genst er n.”
I n ans wer she dr opped t he chai n back over her head, f eeli ng t he ri ng settl e i n it s accust o med pl ace, bel o w her
coll ar bone. It f elt li ke a puzzl e pi ece cli cki ng back i nt o pl ace. For a mo ment t heir eyes l ocked i n wor dl ess
co mmuni cati on, mor e i nt ense i n so me ways t han t heir physi cal cont act had been; she hel d t he i mage of hi m i n her
mi nd i n t hat mo ment as if she wer e me mori zi ng it —t he t angl ed gol den hair, t he shado ws cast by hi s l ashes, t he
ri ngs of darker gol d i nsi de t he li ght a mber of hi s eyes. “I’ll be ri ght back,” she sai d. She squeezed hi s hand. “ Fi ve
minutes.”
“ Go on,” he sai d r oughl y, r el easi ng her hand, and she t ur ned and went back do wn t he pat h. The mo ment she
st epped a way fr o m hi m, she was col d agai n, and by t he ti me she r eached t he doors t o t he buil di ng, she was
fr eezi ng. She paused as she opened t he door, and l ooked back at hi m, but he was onl y a shado w, backlit by t he
gl o w of t he Ne w York skyli ne. The l ove t hat moves t he sun and all t he ot her st ars, she t hought, and t hen, as if i n
answering echo, she heard Lilith’s words. The ki nd of l ove t hat can bur n do wn t he worl d or r ai se it up i n gl ory. A
shi ver r an t hr ough her, and not j ust fr o m t he col d. She l ooked f or Jace, but he had vani shed i nt o t he shado ws; she
turned and headed back inside, the door sliding shut behind her.
Alec had gone upstairs to look for Jordan and Maia, and Simon and Isabelle were alone together, sitting side by
si de on t he gr een chai se l ongue i n t he l obby. Isabell e hel d Al ec’ s wit chli ght i n her hand, ill u mi nati ng t he r oo m wit h
a nearl y spectr al gl o w, sparki ng danci ng mot es of fir e fr o m t he pendant chandeli er.
She had sai d very littl e si nce her br ot her had l eft t he m t oget her. Her head was bent, her dark hair f alli ng f or war d,
her gaze on her hands. They were delicate hands, long-fingered, but calloused as her brothers’ were. Simon had
never noti ced bef or e, but she wor e a sil ver ri ng on her ri ght hand, wit h a patt er n of fl a mes ar ound t he band of it,
and a carved L i n t he cent er. It r e mi nded hi m of t he ri ng Cl ary wor e ar ound her neck, wit h it s desi gn of st ars.
“It’ s t he Li ght wood f a mil y ri ng,” she sai d, noti ci ng wher e hi s gaze was fi xed. “ Every f a mil y has an e mbl e m. Ours i s
fir e.”
It suit s you, he t hought. Izzy was li ke fir e, i n her fl a mi ng scarl et dr ess, wit h her moods as changeabl e as sparks. On
t he r oof he’ d half-t hought she’ d str angl e hi m, her ar ms ar ound hi s neck as she call ed hi m every na me under t he
sun whil e cl ut chi ng hi m li ke she’ d never l et hi m go. No w she was st ari ng off i nt o t he di st ance, as unt ouchabl e as a
st ar. It was all very di sconcerti ng.
You l ove t he m so, Ca mill e had sai d, your Shado whunt er fri ends. As t he f al con l oves t he mast er who bi nds and
bli nds it.
“ What you t ol d us,” he sai d, a littl e halti ng, wat chi ng Isabell e wi nd a str and of her hair ar ound her f or efi nger, “ up
t her e on t he r oof —t hat you hadn’t kno wn t hat Cl ary and Jace wer e mi ssi ng, t hat you’ d co me her e f or me —was
t hat tr ue?”
Isabell e l ooked up, t ucki ng t he str and of hair behi nd her ear. “ Of course it’ s tr ue,” she sai d i ndi gnantl y. “ When we
saw you were gone from the party—and you’ve been in danger for days, Simon, and what with Camille escaping
—” She caught herself up short. “ And Jor dan’ s r esponsi bl e f or you. He was fr eaki ng out.”
“ So it was hi s i dea t o co me l ooki ng f or me?”
Isabell e t ur ned t o l ook at hi m f or a l ong mo ment. Her eyes wer e f at ho ml ess and dark. “I was t he one who noti ced
you wer e gone,” she sai d. “I was t he one who want ed t o fi nd you.”
Si mon cl ear ed hi s t hr oat. He f elt oddl y li ght- headed. “ But why? I t hought you hat ed me no w.”
It had been t he wr ong t hi ng t o say. Isabell e shook her head, her dark hair fl yi ng, and moved a littl e a way fr o m hi m
on t he sett ee. “ Oh, Si mon. Don’t be dense.”
“Iz.” He r eached out and t ouched her wri st, hesit antl y. She di dn’t move a way, j ust wat ched hi m. “ Ca mill e sai d
so met hi ng t o me i n t he Sanct uary. She sai d t hat Shado whunt ers di dn’t car e about Do wnworl ders, j ust used t he m.
She sai d t he Nephili m woul d never do f or me what I di d f or t he m. But you di d. You ca me f or me. You ca me f or
me.”
“ Of course I di d,” she sai d, i n a muffl ed littl e voi ce. “ When I t hought so met hi ng had happened t o you —”
He l eaned t o war d her. Their f aces wer e i nches fr o m each ot her. He coul d see t he r efl ect ed sparks of t he
chandeli er i n her bl ack eyes. Her li ps wer e part ed, and Si mon coul d f eel t he war mt h of her br eat h. For t he first
time since he had become a vampire, he could feel heat, like an electrical charge passing between them.
“Isabell e,” he sai d. Not Iz, not Izzy. Isabelle. “ Can I —”
The elevator pinged; the doors opened, and Alec, Maia, and Jordan spilled out. Alec looked suspiciously at
Si mon and Isabell e as t hey spr ang apart, but bef or e he coul d say anyt hi ng, t he doubl e doors of t he l obby fl e w
wide, and Shadowhunters poured into the room. Simon recognized Kadir and Maryse, who immediately flew
across the room to Isabelle and caught her by the shoulders, demanding to know what had happened.
Simon got to his feet and edged away, feeling uncomfortable—and was nearly knocked down by Magnus, racing
acr oss t he r oo m t o get t o Al ec. He di dn’t see m t o see Si mon at all. Aft er all, i n a hundr ed, t wo hundr ed, years, it’ll
be j ust you and me. We’ll be all t hat’ s l eft, Magnus had sai d t o hi m i n t he Sanct uary. Feeli ng unutt er abl y l onel y
a mong t he milli ng cr o wd of Shado whunt ers, Si mon pr essed hi mself back agai nst t he wall i n t he vai n hope t hat he
wouldn’t be noticed.
Al ec l ooked up j ust as Magnus r eached hi m, caught hi m, and pull ed hi m cl ose. Hi s fi ngers tr aced over Al ec’ s f ace
as if checki ng f or br ui ses or da mage; under hi s br eat h, he was mutt eri ng, “ Ho w coul d you —go off li ke t hi s and not
even t ell me —I coul d have hel ped you —”
“ St op it.” Al ec pull ed a way, f eeli ng muti nous.
Magnus checked hi mself, hi s voi ce soberi ng. “I’ m sorry,” he sai d. “I shoul dn’t have l eft t he part y. I shoul d have
st ayed wit h you. Ca mill e’ s gone any way. No one’ s got t he sli ght est i dea wher e she went, and si nce you can’t tr ack
va mpir es . . .” He shr ugged.
Al ec pushed a way t he i mage of Ca mill e i n hi s mi nd, chai ned t o t he pi pe, l ooki ng at hi m wit h t hose fi erce gr een
eyes. “ Never mi nd,” he sai d. “ She doesn’t matt er. I kno w you wer e j ust tryi ng t o hel p. I’ m not angry wit h you f or
l eavi ng t he part y, any way.”
“ But you wer e angry,” sai d Magnus. “I kne w you wer e. That’ s why I was so worri ed. Runni ng off and putti ng yourself
in danger just because you’re angry with me—”
“I’ m a Shado whunt er,” Al ec sai d. “ Magnus, t hi s i s what I do. It’ s not about you. Next ti me f all i n l ove wit h an
insurance adjuster or—”
“Alexander,” said Magnus. “There isn’t going to be a next time.” He leaned his forehead against Alec’s, goldgreen
eyes staring into blue.
Al ec’ s heart beat sped up. “ Why not ?” he sai d. “ You li ve f or ever. Not everyone does.”
“I kno w I sai d t hat,” sai d Magnus. “ But, Al exander —”
“ St op calli ng me t hat,” sai d Al ec. “ Al exander i s what my par ent s call me. And I suppose it’ s very advanced of you
t o have accept ed my mort alit y so f at ali sti call y —everyt hi ng di es, bl ah, bl ah —but ho w do you t hi nk t hat makes me
feel? Ordinary couples can hope—hope t o gr o w ol d t oget her, hope t o li ve l ong li ves and di e at t he sa me ti me, but
we can’t hope f or t hat. I don’t even kno w what it i s you want.”
Alec wasn’t sure what he’d expected in response—anger or defensiveness or even humor—but Magnus’s voice
only dropped, cracking slightly when he said, “Alex—Alec. If I gave you the impression I had accepted the idea of
your deat h I can onl y apol ogi ze. I tri ed t o, I t hought I had —and yet still I pi ct ur ed havi ng you f or fift y, si xt y mor e
years. I t hought I mi ght be r eady t hen t o l et you go. But it’ s you, and I r eali ze no w t hat I won’t be any mor e r eady t o
l ose you t hen t han I a m ri ght no w.” He put hi s hands gentl y t o eit her si de of Al ec’ s f ace. “ Whi ch i s not at all.”
“So what do we do?” Alec whispered.
Magnus shr ugged, and s mil ed suddenl y; wit h hi s messy bl ack hair and t he gl ea m i n hi s gol d- gr een eyes, he
looked like a mischievous teenager. “What everyone does,” he replied. “Like you said. Hope.”
Al ec and Magnus had begun ki ssi ng i n t he cor ner of t he r oo m, and Si mon wasn’t quit e sur e wher e t o l ook. He
di dn’t want t he m t o t hi nk he was st ari ng at t he m duri ng what was cl earl y a pri vat e mo ment, but wher ever el se he
l ooked, he met t he gl ari ng eyes of Shado whunt ers. Despit e t he f act t hat he’ d f ought wit h t he m i n t he bank agai nst
Ca mill e, none of t he m l ooked at hi m wit h parti cul ar fri endli ness. It was one t hi ng f or Isabell e t o accept hi m and t o
car e about hi m, but Shado whunt ers en masse wer e anot her t hi ng entir el y. He coul d t ell what t hey wer e t hi nki ng.
“ Va mpir e, Do wnworl der, ene my” was writt en all over t heir f aces. It ca me as a r eli ef when t he doors burst open
agai n and Jocel yn ca me fl yi ng i n, still weari ng her bl ue dr ess fr o m t he part y. Luke was onl y a f e w st eps behi nd
her.
“ Si mon!” she cri ed as soon as she caught si ght of hi m. She r an over t o hi m, and t o hi s sur pri se she hugged hi m
fi ercel y bef or e l etti ng hi m go. “ Si mon, wher e’ s Cl ary? Is she —”
Si mon opened hi s mout h, but no sound ca me out. Ho w coul d he expl ai n t o Jocel yn, of all peopl e, what had
happened t hat ni ght ? Jocel yn, who woul d be horrifi ed t o kno w t hat so much of Lilit h’ s evil, t he chil dr en she had
murdered, the blood she had spilled, had all been in the service of making more creatures like Jocelyn’s own
dead son, whose body even now lay entombed on the rooftop where Clary was with Jace?
I can’t t ell her any of t hi s, he t hoIu gchat.n ’t . He l ooked past her at Luke, whose bl ue eyes r est ed on hi m
expect antl y. Behind Clary’s family he could see the Shadowhunters crowding around Isabelle as she presumably
r ecount ed t he event s of t he eveni ng.
“I—,” he began helplessly, and then the elevator doors opened again, and Clary stepped out. Her shoes were
gone, her lovely satin dress in bloody rags, bruises already fading on her bare arms and legs. But she was smiling
—radiant even, happier than Simon had seen her look in weeks.
“ Mo m!” she excl ai med, and t hen Jocel yn had fl o wn at her and was huggi ng her. Cl ary s mil ed at Si mon over her
mot her’ s shoul der. Si mon gl anced ar ound t he r oo m. Al ec and Magnus wer e still wr apped up i n each ot her, and
Maia and Jordan had vanished. Isabelle was still surrounded by Shadowhunters, and Simon could hear gasps of
horr or and a maze ment ri se fr o m t he gr oup surr oundi ng her as she r ecount ed her st ory. He suspect ed so me part
of her was enj oyi ng it. Isabell e di d l ove bei ng t he cent er of att enti on, no matt er what t he cause.
He f elt a hand co me do wn on hi s shoul der. It was Luke. “ A ryeou all ri ght, Si mon?”
Si mon l ooked up at hi m. Luke l ooked as he al ways di d: soli d, pr of essori al, utt erl y r eli abl e. Not even t he l east bit
put out that his engagement party had been disrupted by a sudden dramatic emergency.
Simon’s father had died so long ago that he barely remembered him. Rebecca recalled bits about him—that he
had a bear d, and woul d hel p her buil d el abor at e t o wers out of bl ocks —but Si mon di dn’t. It was one of t he t hi ngs
he’ d t hought he al ways had i n co mmon wit h Cl ary, t hat had bonded t he m: bot h wit h dead f at hers, bot h br ought up
by strong single women.
Well, at l east one of t hose t hi ngs had t ur ned out t o be tr ue, Si mon t hought. Though hi s mot her had dat ed, he’ d
never had a consi st ent f at herl y pr esence i n hi s lif e, ot her t han Luke. He supposed t hat i n a way, he and Cl ary had
shared Luke. And the wolf pack looked up to Luke for guidance, as well. For a bachelor who’d never had children,
Si mon t hought, Luke had an a wf ul l ot of ki ds t o l ook aft er.
“I don’t kno w,” Si mon sai d, gi vi ng Luke t he honest ans wer he’ d li ke t o t hi nk he’ d have gi ven hi s o wn f at her. “I don’t
t hi nk so.”
Luke t ur ned Si mon t o f ace hi m. “ You’r e cover ed i n bl ood,” he sai d. “ And I’ m guessi ng it’ s not yours, because . . .”
He gest ur ed t o war d t he Mark on Si mon’ s f or ehead. “ But hey.” Hi s voi ce was gentl e. “ Even cover ed i n bl ood and
wit h t he Mark of Cai n on you, you’r e still Si mon. Can you t ell me what happened?”
“It’ s not my bl ood, you’r e ri ght,” Si mon sai d hoarsel y. “ But it’ s al so ki nd of a l ong st ory.” He tilt ed hi s head back t o
look up at Luke; he’d always wondered if maybe he’d have another growth spurt some day, grow a few more
i nches t han t he fi ve-t en he was no w, be abl e t o l ook Luke —not t o menti on Jace —str ai ght i n t he eye. But t hat
woul d never happen no w. “ Luke,” he sai d. “ Do you t hi nk it’ s possi bl e t o do so met hi ng so bad, even if you di dn’t
mean t o do it, t hat you can never co me back fr o m it ? That no one can f or gi ve you?”
Luke l ooked at hi m f or a l ong, sil ent mo ment. Then he sai d, “ Thi nk of so meone you l ove, Si mon. Reall y l ove. Is
t her e anyt hi ng t hey coul d ever do t hat woul d mean you woul d st op l ovi ng t he m?”
I mages fl ashed t hr ough Si mon’ s mi nd, li ke t he pages of a fli p- book: Cl ary, t ur ni ng t o s mil e at hi m over her
shoul der; hi s si st er, ti ckli ng hi m when he was j ust a littl e ki d; hi s mot her, asl eep on t he sof a wit h t he coverl et pull ed
up t o her shoul ders; Izzy —
He shut t he t hought s off hastil y. Cl ary hadn’t done anyt hi ng so t erri bl e t hat he needed t o dr edge up f or gi veness f or
her; none of t he peopl e he was pi ct uri ng had. He t hought of Cl ary, f or gi vi ng her mot her f or havi ng st ol en her
me mori es. He t hought of Jace, what he had done on t he r oof, ho w he had l ooked aft er war d. He had done what he
had done wit hout voliti on of hi s o wn, but Si mon doubt ed Jace woul d be abl e t o f or gi ve hi mself, r egar dl ess. And
t hen he t hought of Jor dan —not f or gi vi ng hi mself f or what he had done t o Mai a, but f or gi ng ahead any way, j oi ni ng
t he Pr aet or Lupus, maki ng a lif e out of hel pi ng ot hers.
“I bit so meone,” he sai d. The wor ds ca me out of hi s mout h, and he wi shed he coul d s wall o w t he m back. He
br aced hi mself f or Luke’ s l ook of horr or, but it di dn’t co me.
“ Di d t hey li ve?” Luke sai d. “ Thi s person t hat you bit. Di d t hey survi ve?”
“I —” Ho w t o expl ai n about Maur een? Lilit h had or der ed her a way, but Si mon was sur e t hey hadn’t seen t he l ast of
her. “I di dn’t kill her.”
Luke nodded once. “You know how werewolves become pack leaders,” he said. “They have to kill the old pack
l eader. I’ ve done t hat t wi ce. I have t he scars t o pr ove it.” He dr e w t he coll ar of hi s shirt asi de sli ghtl y, and Si mon
sa w t he edge of a t hi ck whit e scar t hat l ooked r agged, as if hi s chest had been cl a wed. “ The second ti me it was a
calculated move. Cold-blooded killing. I wanted to become the leader, and that was how I did it.” He shrugged.
“ You’r e a va mpir e. It’ s i n your nat ur e t o want t o dri nk bl ood. You’ ve hel d out a l ong ti me wit hout doi ng it. I kno w you
can wal k i n t he sun, Si mon, and so you pri de yourself on bei ng a nor mal hu man boy, but you’r e still what you ar e.
Just li ke I a m. The mor e you try t o cr ush your tr ue nat ur e, t he mor e it will contr ol you. Be what you ar e. No one who
r eall y l oves you will st op.”
Simon said hoarsely, “My mom—”
“ Cl ary t ol d me what happened wit h your mot her, and t hat you’ ve been cr ashi ng wit h Jor dan Kyl e,” sai d Luke.
“ Look, your mot her will co me ar ound, Si mon. Li ke A mati s di d, wit h me. You’r e still her son. I’ll t al k t o her, if you
want me t o.”
Si mon shook hi s head sil entl y. Hi s mot her had al ways li ked Luke. Deali ng wit h t he f act t hat Luke was a wer e wolf
would probably make things worse, not better.
Luke nodded as if he underst ood. “If you don’t want t o go back t o Jor dan’ s, you’r e mor e t han wel co me t o st ay on
my sof a t oni ght. I’ m sur e Cl ary woul d be gl ad t o have you ar ound, and we can t al k about what t o do about your
mot her t o morr o w.”
Si mon squar ed hi s shoul ders. He l ooked at Isabell e acr oss t he r oo m, t he gl ea m of her whi p, t he shi ne of t he
pendant at her t hr oat, t he fl utt er of her hands as she t al ked. Isabell e, who wasn’t afr ai d of anyt hi ng. He t hought of
hi s mot her, t he way she had backed a way fr o m hi m, t he f ear i n her eyes. He’ d been hi di ng fr o m t he me mory,
r unni ng fr o m it, ever si nce. But it was ti me t o st op r unni ng. “ No,” he sai d. “ Thanks, but I t hi nk I don’t need a pl ace t o
cr ash t oni ght. I t hi nk . . . t hat I’ m goi ng t o go ho me.”
Jace st ood al one on t he r oof, l ooki ng out over t he cit y, t he East Ri ver a sil very- bl ack snake t wi ni ng bet ween
Brooklyn and Manhatt an. Hi s hands, hi s li ps, still f elt war m fr o m Cl ary’ s t ouch, but t he wi nd off t he ri ver was i cy,
and t he war mt h was f adi ng f ast. Wit hout a j acket t he air cut t hr ough t he t hi n mat eri al of hi s shirt li ke t he bl ade of a
knife.
He t ook a deep br eat h, sucki ng t he col d air i nt o hi s l ungs, and l et it out sl o wl y. Hi s whol e body f elt t ense. He was
waiti ng f or t he sound of t he el evat or, t he doors openi ng, t he Shado whunt ers fl oodi ng out i nt o t he gar den. They
woul d be sy mpat heti c at first, he t hought, worri ed about hi m. Then, as t hey underst ood what had happened —t hen
woul d co me t he shri nki ng a way, t he meani ngf ul l ooks exchanged when t hey t hought he wasn’t wat chi ng. He had
been possessed—not just by a demon, but by a Greater Demon—had acted against the Clave, had threatened
and hurt another Shadowhunter.
He t hought about ho w Jocel yn woul d l ook at hi m when she hear d what he’ d done t o Cl ary. Luke mi ght underst and,
f or gi ve. But Jocel yn. He had never been abl e t o bri ng hi mself t o speak t o her honestl y, t o say t he wor ds he t hought
mi ght r eassur e her. I l ove your daught er, mor e t han I ever t hought it was possi bl e t o l ove anyt hi ng. I woul d never
hurt her.
She woul d j ust l ook at hi m, he t hought, wit h t hose gr een eyes t hat wer e so li ke Cl ary’ s. She woul d want mor e t han
t hat. She woul d want t o hear hi m say what he wasn’t sur e was tr ue.
I a m not hi ng li ke Val enti ne.
Aren’t you? The wor ds see med carri ed on t he col d air, a whi sper meant onl y f or hi s ears. You never kne w your
mot her. You never kne w your f at her. You gave your heart t o Val enti ne when you wer e a chil d, as chil dr en do, and
made yourself a part of hi m. You cannot cut t hat a way fr o m yourself no w wit h one cl ean sli ce of a bl ade.
Hi s l eft hand was col d. He l ooked do wn and sa w, t o hi s shock, t hat so meho w he had pi cked up t he dagger —hi s
real father’s etched silver dagger—and was holding it in his hand. The blade, though eaten away by Lilith’s blood,
was whol e agai n, and shi ni ng li ke a pr o mi se. A col d t hat had not hi ng t o do wit h t he weat her began t o spr ead
t hr ough hi s chest. Ho w many ti mes had he woken up li ke t hi s, gaspi ng and s weati ng, t he dagger i n hi s hand? And
Cl ary, al ways Cl ary, dead at hi s f eet.
But Lilit h was dead. It was over. He tri ed t o sli de t he dagger i nt o hi s belt, but hi s hand di dn’t see m t o want t o obey
t he co mmand hi s mi nd was gi vi ng it. He f elt a sense of sti ngi ng heat acr oss hi s chest, a seari ng pai n. Looki ng
do wn, he sa w t hat t he bl oody li ne t hat had split Lilit h’ s mark i n half, wher e Cl ary had sl ashed hi m wit h t he dagger,
had healed. The mark gleamed redly against his chest.
Jace st opped tryi ng t o shove t he dagger i nt o hi s belt. Hi s knuckl es t ur ned whit e as hi s gri p ti ght ened on t he hilt,
hi s wri st t wi sti ng, desper at el y tryi ng t o t ur n t he bl ade on hi mself. Hi s heart was poundi ng. He had accept ed no
iratzes. Ho w had t he mark heal ed so f ast ? If he coul d gash it agai n, di sfi gur e it, even t e mpor aril y —
But hi s hand woul dn’t obey hi m. Hi s ar m st ayed stiffl y at hi s si de as hi s body t ur ned, agai nst hi s o wn will, t o war d
the pedestal where Sebastian’s body lay.
The coffi n had begun t o gl o w, wit h a cl oudy gr eeni sh li ght —al most a wit chli ght gl o w, but t her e was so met hi ng
pai nf ul about t hi s li ght, so met hi ng t hat see med t o pi erce t he eye. Jace tri ed t o t ake a st ep back, but hi s l egs
woul dn’t move. Icy s weat tri ckl ed do wn hi s back. A voi ce whi sper ed at t he back of hi s mi nd.
Come here.
It was Sebasti an’ s voi ce.
Di d you t hi nk you wer e fr ee because Lilit h i s gone? The va mpir e’ s bit e woke me; no w her bl ood i n my vei ns
compels you.
Come here.
Jace tri ed t o di g i n hi s heel s, but hi s body betr ayed hi m, carryi ng hi m f or war d, t hough hi s consci ous mi nd str ai ned
agai nst it. Even as he tri ed t o hang back, hi s f eet moved hi m do wn t he pat h, t o war d t he coffi n. The pai nt ed circl e
fl ashed gr een as he moved acr oss it, and t he coffi n see med t o ans wer wit h a second fl ash of e mer al d li ght. And
t hen he was st andi ng over it, l ooki ng do wn.
Jace bit do wn har d on hi s li p, hopi ng t he pai n mi ght shock hi m out of t he dr ea m st at e he was i n. It di dn’t work. He
t ast ed hi s o wn bl ood as he st ar ed do wn at Sebasti an, who fl oat ed li ke a dr o wned cor pse i n t he wat er. Those ar e
pearl s t hat wer e hi s eyes. Hi s hair was col orl ess sea weed, hi s cl osed eyeli ds bl ue. Hi s mout h had t he col d, har d
set of hi s f at her’ s mout h. It was li ke l ooki ng at a young Val enti ne.
Wit hout hi s voliti on, absol ut el y agai nst hi s will, Jace’ s hands began t o ri se. Hi s l eft hand l ai d t he edge of t he
dagger against the inside of his right palm, where life and love lines crisscrossed each other.
Wor ds spill ed fr o m hi s o wn li ps. He hear d t he m as if fr o m an i mmense di st ance. They wer e i n no l anguage he
kne w or underst ood, but he kne w what t hey wer e —rit ual chanti ng. Hi s mi nd was scr ea mi ng at hi s body t o st op, but
it appear ed t o make no diff er ence. He l eft hand ca me do wn, t he knif e cl enched i n it. The bl ade sli ced a cl ean,
sur e, shall o w cut acr oss hi s ri ght pal m. Al most i nst antl y it began t o bl eed. He tri ed t o dr a w back, tri ed t o pull hi s
ar m a way, but it was as if he wer e encased i n ce ment. As he wat ched i n horr or, t he first bl ood dr ops spl ashed
ont o Sebasti an’ s f ace.
Sebastian’s eyes flew open. They were black, blacker than Valentine’s, as black as the demon’s who had called
herself hi s mot her. They fi xed on Jace, li ke gr eat dark mirr ors, gi vi ng hi m back hi s o wn f ace, t wi st ed and
unrecognizable, his mouth shaping the words of the ritual, spilling forth in a meaningless babble like a river of
black water.
The blood was flowing more freely now, turning the cloudy liquid inside the coffin a darker red. Sebastian moved.
The bloody water shifted and spilled as he sat up, his black eyes fixed on Jace.
The second part of t he rit ual. His voice spoke inside Jace’s head I.t i s al most co mpl et e.
Wat er r an off hi m li ke t ears. Hi s pal e hair, past ed t o hi s f or ehead, see med t o have no col or at all. He r ai sed one
hand and hel d it out, and Jace, agai nst t he cry i nsi de hi s o wn mi nd, hel d out t he dagger, bl ade f or war d. Sebasti an
sli d hi s hand al ong t he l engt h of t he col d, shar p bl ade. Bl ood spr ang up i n a li ne acr oss hi s pal m. He knocked t he
dagger aside and took Jace’s hand, gripping it with his own.
It was t he l ast t hi ng Jace had expect ed. He coul dn’t move t o pull a way. He f elt each of Sebasti an’ s col d fi ngers as
t hey wr apped hi s hand, pr essi ng t heir bl eedi ng cut s t oget her. It was li ke bei ng gri pped by col d met al. Ice began t o
spr ead up hi s vei ns fr o m hi s hand. A shudder passed over hi m, and t hen anot her, po werf ul physi cal tr e mors so
pai nf ul it f elt as if hi s body wer e bei ng t ur ned i nsi de out. He tri ed t o scr ea m—
And t he cry di ed i n hi s t hr oat. He l ooked do wn at hi s and Sebasti an’ s hands, cl enched t oget her. Bl ood r an t hr ough
t heir fi ngers and do wn t heir wri st s, as el egant as r ed l ace work. It glitt er ed i n t he col d el ectri c li ght of t he cit y. It
moved not li ke li qui d, but li ke movi ng r ed wir es. It wr apped t heir hands t oget her i n a scarl et bi ndi ng.
A peculi ar sense of peace st ol e over Jace. The worl d see med t o f all a way, and he was st andi ng on t he peak of a
mount ai n, t he worl d spr ead out bef or e hi m, everyt hi ng i n it hi s f or t he t aki ng. The li ght s of t he cit y ar ound hi m wer e
no l onger el ectri c, but wer e t he li ght of a t housand di a mond-li ke st ars. They see med t o shi ne do wn on hi m wit h a
benevol ent gl o w t hat sai d, Thi s i s good. Thi s i s ri ght. Thi s i s what your f at her woul d have want ed.
He sa w Cl ary i n hi s mi nd’ s eye, her pal e f ace, t he f all of her r ed hair, her mout h as it moved, shapi ng t he wIo’lrlds
be ri ght back. Fi ve mi nut es.
And t hen her voi ce f aded as anot her spoke over it, dr o wni ng it out. The i mage of her i n hi s mi nd r eceded,
vani shi ng i mpl ori ngl y i nt o t he darkness, as Eurydi ce had vani shed when Or pheus had t ur ned t o l ook at her one
l ast ti me. Her sa w her, her whit e ar ms hel d out t o hi m, and t hen t he shado ws cl osed over her and she was gone.
A new voice spoke in Jace’s head now, a familiar voice, once hated, now oddly welcome. Sebastian’s voice. It
see med t o r un t hr ough hi s bl ood, t hr ough t he bl ood t hat passed t hr ough Sebasti an’ s hand i nt o hi s, li ke a fi ery
chain.
We ar e one no w, littl e br ot her, you and I, Sebasti an sai d.
We are one.
Acknowledgments
As al ways, f a mil y pr ovi des t he cor e of support needed t o make a novel happen: my husband Josh, my mot her and
f at her, Ji m Hill and Kat e Connor; t he Esons f a mil y; Mel ani e, Jonat han and Hel en Le wi s; Fl or ence and Joyce. Thi s
book even mor e t han any ot her was t he pr oduct of i nt ense gr oup work, so many t hanks t o: Deli a Sher man, Holl y
Bl ack, Sar ah Rees Br ennan, Justi ne Lar bal esti er, El ka Cl oke, Robi n Wasser man, and speci al menti on t o
Maur een Johnson f or l endi ng her na me t o t he char act er Maur een. Thanks t o Wayne Mill er f or hel pi ng me wit h
Lati n tr ansl ati ons. Thanks t o Mar gi e Longori a f or her support of Pr oj ect Book Babe: Mi chael Garza, t he o wner of
t he Bi g Appl e Deli, i s na med f or her son, Mi chael Eli seo Joe Garza. My al ways gr atit ude t o my agent, Barry
Gol dbl att; t o my edit or, Kar en Wojt yl a; t o E mil y Fabr e, f or maki ng changes l ong past t he ti me changes can be
made; t o Cliff Ni el son and Russell Gor don, f or maki ng beautif ul covers; and t o t he t ea ms at Si mon and Schust er
and Wal ker Books f or maki ng t he r est of t he magi c happen. And l astl y, my t hanks t o Li nus and Lucy, my cat s, who
onl y t hr e w up on my manuscri pt once.
Cit y of Fall en Angel s was writt en wit h t he pr ogr a m Scri vener, i n San Mi guel de All ende, Mexi co.