I don’t want to be Nephilim,” said Jace. “I want to be something else. Stronger, faster, better than human. But different. Not subservient to the Laws of an angel who couldn’t care less about us. Free.” He ran his hand through a curl of her hair. “I’m happy now, Clary. Doesn’t that make a difference?
You never cared that I was your sister before.”“Didn’t I?” His black eyes flicked up and down her. “Our father’s dead,” he said. “There are no other relatives. You and I, we are the last. The last of the Morgensterns. You are the only one left whose blood runs in my veins, too. You are my last chance.
And when Jace was ten years old, Valentine killed him. Michael,I mean.""That sounds like something he would do," said Luke. His tone was neutral, but there was something in his voice that made Clary look at him sideways. Did he not believe her?"Jace saw him die, " she added, as if to bolster her claim."That's awful," said Luke. "Poor messed-up kid.
But the person who stepped out of the front door was tall and thin, with short, spiky dark hair. he was wearing a gold mesh vest and a pair of silk pajama pants. He regarded Clary with mild interest, puffing gently on a fantastically large pipe as he did so. Though he looked nothing at all like a Viking, he was instantly and totally familiar. Magnus Bane
Simon!”The voice was Clary’s. He would know it anywhere. He wondered if his mind was conjuring it up now, a sense memory of what he’d most loved during life to carry him through the process of death.“Simon, you stupid idiot! I’m over here! At the window!”Simon jumped to his feet. He doubted his mind would conjure that up.
You look happy," he said to Clary. He swiveled his gaze to Jace. "And a good thing for you that she does."Jace raised an eyebrow. "Is this the part where you tell me that if I hurt her, you'll kill me?""No," said Simon, "If you hurt Clary, she's quite capable of killing you herself. Possibly with a variety of weapons."Jace looked pleased by the thought.
And then we met you, and it was like he woke up. You couldn't see it, because you'd never known him any different. But I saw it. Hodge saw it. Alec saw it -why do you think he hated you so much? It was like that form the second we met you. You thought it was amazing that you could see us, and it was, but what was amazing to me was that Jace could see you too.
What are all these?" Clary asked."Vials of holy water, blessed knives, steel and silver blades," Jace said, piling the weapons on the floor beside him, "electrum wire - not much use at the moment but it's always good to have spares - silver bullets, charms of protetion, crucifixes, stars of David-""Jesus," said Clary"I doubt he'd fit.""Jace." Clary was appalled.
But how do they get inside?""They fly," Jace said, and indicated the upper floors of the building.[...]"We don't fly," Clary felt impelled to point out."No," Jace agreed. "We don't fly. We break and enter." He started across the street toward the hotel."Flying sounds like more fun," Clary said, hurrying to catch up with him."Right now everything sounds like more fun.
Sorry,” she said breathlessly. “I got lost in the crowd.”“I noticed,” he said. “One second I was dancing with you, and the next you were gone and a very persistent werewolf was trying to get the buttons on my jeans undone.”Sebastian chuckled. “Girl or boy werewolf?”“Not sure. Either way, they could have used a shave.
Clary was trying not to think about the fact that it had been three days since she'd seen Magnus, and he'd sent no word at all. Or the fact that there was really nothing stopping him from taking the Book of the White and disappearing into the ether, never to be heard from again. She wondered why she'd ever thought trusting who wore that much eye-liner was a good idea.
He clung to her more tightly, knotting his hands in her hair, trying to tell her, with the press of his mouth on hers, all the things he could never say out loud: I love you; I love you and I don’t care that you’re my sister; don’t be with him, don’t want him, don’t go with him. Be with me. Want me. Stay with me.I don’t know how to be without you.
She had thought once that there were good people and bad people, that there was a side of light and a side of darkness, but she no longer thought that. She had seen evil, in her brother and her father, the evil of good intentions gone wrong and the evil of sheer desire for power. But in goodness there was also no safety: Virtue could cut like a knife, and the fire of Heaven was blinding.
Is it really love to tell someone that if it came down to picking between them and every other life on the planet, you’d pick them? Is that — I don’t know, is that a moral sort of love at all?''Love isn’t moral or immoral,' said Clary. 'It just is.''I know,' Simon said. 'But the actions we take in the name of love, those are moral or immoral.
Oh, come on, Jace," Clary said. "You can't wait for perfect behavior from everyone. Adults screw up too. Go back to the Institute and talk to her rationally. Be a man.""I don't want to be a man," said Jace. "I want to be an angst-ridden teenager who can't confront his own inner demons and takes it out verbally on other people instead.""Well," said Luke, "you're doing a fantastic job.
