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- Isabelle Lightwood came in. She smiled when she saw Simon, and came toward him, shrugging off her coat and draping it over the back of the chair before she sat down. Under the coat she was wearing one of what Clary called her “typical Isabelle outfits”: a tight short velvet dress, fishnet stockings, and boots. There was a knife stuck into the top of her left boot that Simon knew only he could see; still, everyone in the diner was watching as she sat down, flinging her hair back. Whatever she was wearing, Isabelle drew attention like a fireworks display.
- Beautiful Isabelle Lightwood. When Simon had met her, he’d assumed she’d have no time for a guy like him. He’d turned out to be mostly right. Isabelle liked boys her parents disapproved of, and in her universe that meant Downworlders—faeries, werewolves, and vamps.
- Clary made fun of him about his new look; but, then, Clary found everything about Simon’s love life borderline hilarious. She couldn’t believe he was dating Isabelle in any serious way. Of course, she also couldn’t believe he was also dating Maia Roberts, a friend of theirs who happened to be a werewolf, in an equally serious way. And she really couldn’t believe that Simon hadn’t yet told either of them about the other.
- omg, he sure seems to be having fun
- Isabelle was nothing if not unsubtle.
- “It’s a joke, Isabelle. He’s the Count. He likes counting. You know. ‘What did the Count eat today, children? One chocolate chip cookie, two chocolate chip cookies, three chocolate chip cookies…’” There was a rush of cold air as the door of the restaurant opened, letting in another customer. Isabelle shivered and reached for her black silk scarf. “It’s not realistic.” “What would you prefer? ‘What did the Count eat today, children? One helpless villager, two helpless villagers, three helpless villagers…’”
- “Maybe he’s changed his mind,” Simon suggested. “You know how he is. Moody. Fickle.” “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t really seen him since that time I threatened to kill him with a candelabra. He took it well, though. Didn’t flinch.” “Fantastic,” Simon said.
- “Huh.” Simon was puzzled. “I would have thought Raphael’s style was more, you know, arranging meetings on top of an unconsecrated cathedral, or down in some crypt full of bones. He never struck me as the trendy restaurant type.”
- “Is this going to take a long time?” he inquired, gazing pointedly down at his cell phone, which told him the time was after ten thirty. “I have to get home.” Camille took a sip of her wine. “You do? And why is that?” Because my mom is waiting up for me. Okay, there was no reason this woman needed to know that.
- if there was one thing he had learned from the past few months, it was that reneging on promises made to supernatural creatures was a bad idea.
- “Because,” she said, “your problems are not real problems. You’re dating two beautiful girls at once. Think about it. That’s like … rock-star problems.”
- “See you.” She hung up and stuck the phone into her bra; the light training clothes didn’t have any pockets, so what was a girl to do?
- Alec and Magnus standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, Alec wearing jeans 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 like the Phantom of the Opera. In front of the Prado he was wearing a sparkling matador jacket and platform boots, while Alec appeared to be calmly feeding a pigeon in the background.
- wow can magnus just be my personal stylist pleasee ??
- “Because he is superhot,” Clary said, to Simon’s surprise. He hadn’t been enormously struck by Kyle’s looks, but then, perhaps he wasn’t the best judge of male beauty. “And your band needs some sex appeal.” “Thank you,” said Simon. “On behalf of us all, thank you very much.”
- Simon winced. “She’s thirteen.” “That’s your sexy vampire mojo at work, man,” said Matt. “The ladies cannot resist you.”
- “I do drink blood,” Simon said. “I drink animal blood.” “But you’re a vegetarian.” His mother looked to be on the verge of tears.
- “What kind of living thing doesn’t have a pulse?
- Raphael’s eyebrows went up. They were very thin and very dark. In less generous moments Simon sometimes wondered if he penciled them on.
- but the Queen just smiled. She liked Jace, Clary had always thought, in that way that faeries liked pretty things because they were pretty.
- “No. That’s Clary; she’s my best friend.” Simon pocketed his phone. “And she has a boyfriend. Like, really, really, really has a boyfriend. The nuclear bomb of boyfriends. Trust me on this one.”
- In some ways, Simon thought, they were opposites. Maia was calm and grounded; Isabelle lived at a high pitch of excitement. Maia was a steady light in the darkness; Isabelle a burning star, spinning through the void.
- In that way she was the opposite of Isabelle, who wore dresses and heels at even the most inappropriate times. (Though since he’d once seen her dispatch a Vermis demon with the stiletto heel of a boot, he was less inclined to worry about it.)
- Under that, as always, Simon could smell the salt scent of blood, mixed with a sharp, lemony tang that was peculiar to werewolves. Every Downworlder’s blood smelled different—faeries smelled like dead flowers, warlocks like burnt matches, and other vampires like metal. Clary had once asked him what Shadowhunters smelled like. “Sunlight,” he’d said.
- “White for Shadowhunters is the color of funerals,”
- Brides wear white to symbolize their purity.” “I thought Jocelyn said her dress wasn’t white,” Simon said. “Well,” said Jace, “I suppose that ship has sailed.” Luke choked on his coffee.
- omg
- All that running and getting nowhere, he thought. Story of my life.
- And you would have had a brother,” said Simon. “Like, an actual one. Not a murdering psychopath.”
- He was wearing a fleece-lined zip-up flannel jacket that Jocelyn had been trying to get him to throw away since they’d first started dating. It was rather nice, Clary thought, that just about nothing seemed to change Luke, no matter what happened in his life. He liked what he liked, and that was that. Even if it was a ratty-looking old coat.
- You were following Clary?” Simon echoed. “Here’s a hot tip: Most girls don’t like being stalked.
- Jace stopped at the corner, waiting for the light to turn. Apparently even Shadowhunters had to obey traffic laws. “I was following you.” “Is this the part where you tell me you’re secretly in love with me? Vampire mojo strikes again.”
- He shrugged, and picked up a piece of fruit at random. “What’s this?” “That’s a mango.” Simon stared at Jace. Sometimes it really was like Shadowhunters were from an alien planet. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those that wasn’t already cut up,” Jace mused. “I like mangoes.”
- omg you don't know what a mango LOOKS LIKE??????
- Jace just arched an eyebrow. The girl said something to him breathlessly; he shrugged; she pressed something into his hand, and then dashed back to her friend. They wobbled out of the store, giggling together. Simon went over to Jace and dropped the soup can into the cart. “So what was all that about?” “I think,” Jace said, “that she asked if she could touch my mango.” “She said that?” Jace shrugged. “Yeah, then she gave me her number.”
- WHAT!!!!!!!! hahahahaaaa this is ridiculous, man
- “Forget I said that,” said Simon. “This sort of thing happens to you all the time, doesn’t it? Girls just coming up to you?” “Only when I’m not glamoured.” “Yes, because when you are, girls can’t see you, because you’re invisible.” Simon shook his head. “You’re a public menace. You shouldn’t be allowed out on your own.”
- “You can’t have two fathers.” “Sure you can,” Simon said. “Who says you can’t? We can buy you one of those books they have for little kids. Timmy Has Two Dads. Except I don’t think they have one called Timmy Has Two Dads and One of Them Was Evil. That part you’re just going to have to work through on your own.” Jace rolled his eyes. “It’s fascinating,” he said. “You know all these words, and they’re all English, but when you string them together into sentences, they just don’t make any sense.”
- Jace rolled his eyes. “It’s fascinating,” he said. “You know all these words, and they’re all English, but when you string them together into sentences, they just don’t make any sense.”
- “Yeah,” Jace said, “but you’re a vampire. Blood isn’t like food for you. Blood is … blood.” “That’s very illuminating.” Simon flung himself into the armchair across from the TV; it had probably once beena pale gold velvet but was now worn to the grayish pile. “Do you have a lot of other profound thoughts like that? Blood is blood? A toaster is a toaster? A Gelatinous Cube is a Gelatinous Cube?”
- “That’s not necessary,” said Jace. “I can keep a perfectly good eye on Simon, thank you. He’s my neophyte Downworlder to mock and boss around, not yours.”
- aw how sweet
- “You,” he said to Jace, “well, I guess I’ll see you around. You’re the first Shadowhunter I’ve ever met.” “That’s too bad,” said Jace, “since all the ones you meet from now on will be a terrible letdown.”
- Simon looked at Jace. “You’re not going back to the Institute,” he said, “are you?” Jace shook his head. “You need protecting. Who knows when someone might try to kill you again?”
- new bffs
- and walked past Jace into his own small bedroom, where he stripped off his jacket and shoes and flung himself down onto the mattress. A moment later Jace came into the room. He looked around, his light eyebrows raised, his expression a mask of amusement. “Quite a space you’ve got here. Minimalist. I like it.”
- is this what the whole book will be like?? simon and jace? cause if it is i am so in for it
- “I didn’t even think you liked me all that much,” said Simon. “Is this one of those keep-your-friends-close-and-your-enemies-closer things?” “I thought it was keep your friends close so you have someone to drive the car when you sneak over to your enemy’s house at night and throw up in his mailbox.”
- omg
- He looked quickly toward the window. Jace was still there, but he was clearly asleep—sitting up, his head leaning against the window glass. Pale blue dawn light filtered past him. He looked very young like that, Simon thought. No mockery in his expression, no defensiveness or sarcasm. It was almost possible to imagine what Clary saw in him.
- Simon remembered a rhyme his mother used to recite to him, about magpies. You were supposed to count them and say: One for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a wedding, four for a birth; five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret that’s never been told.
- It was at moments like this that Simon could put aside his memories of Luke—Clary’s sort-of stepfather, the guy who was always around, who was always willing to give you a ride home from school or lend you ten bucks for a book or a movie ticket—and remember that Luke led the biggest wolf pack in the city, that he was someone to whom, at crucial times, the whole Clave had listened.
- “Power is a magnet. It draws those who desire it.
- “I bet you thought you were very clever, sneaking off like that.” “Medium clever,” Simon acknowledged. “Like a cross between George Clooney in Ocean’s Eleven and those MythBusters guys, but, you know, better-looking.” “I’m always so glad I have no idea what you’re vacantly chattering about,” said Jace. “It fills me with a sense of peace and well-being.”
- “I’m out of blood right now,” Simon said. “Unless you’re offering.” “No, thanks. We’ve been down that road before, and I think we’re better off as just friends.” Jace’s tone was as lightly sarcastic as ever,
- Simon looked from one of them to the other, and shook his head. “When did you two get so buddy-buddy? Last night it was all, ‘I’m the most elite warrior!’ ‘No, I’m the most elite warrior!’ And today you’re playing Halo and giving each other props for good ideas.” “We realized we have something in common,” said Jace. “You annoy us both.”
- u three will be besties
- “Let me ask you something,” Simon said. “Do you find me fascinating to be around?” “What was that?” Jace said. “Sorry, I think I fell asleep for a moment. Do, continue with whatever mesmerizing thing you were saying.” “Stop it,” Simon said.
- get the fuck out, is this really happening right now???
- Simon looked from Kyle to Jace. “Did you know you two match?” They glanced down at themselves, and then at each other. Both were wearing jeans and long-sleeved black T-shirts. Jace tugged on his shirt hem with slight self-consciousness. “I borrowed this from Kyle. My other shirt was pretty filthy.” “Wow, you’re wearing each other’s clothes now. That’s, like, best-friend stuff.” “Feeling left out?” said Kyle. “I suppose you want to borrow a black T-shirt too.” Simon did not state the obvious, which was that nothing that fit Kyle or Jace was likely to fit his skinny frame. “As long as everyone’s wearing their own pants.”
- omg STOP IT
- The warlock woman’s blue eyes rested on Clary for a moment. “Oh, I know your name,” she said. “Clarissa Morgenstern. Little girl who stopped a big war.”
- As Kyle and Simon headed for the stage, Jace got to his feet. Just below the hem of his borrowed shirt, Simon could see the glittering edge of a dagger. “Break a leg up there,” Jace said with a wicked grin. “And I’ll be down here, hopefully breaking someone else’s.”
- Isabelle chewed thoughtfully on her straw. “That new lead singer they have is hot. Is he single? I’d like to ride him around town like a bad, bad pony—”
- “And now,” Eric yelled into his microphone, “we’re going to sing a new song—one we just wrote. This one’s for 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.’”
- hahahaa
- What’s the point in wasting a perfectly good brick wall when you have someone to throw against it, that’s what I always say.”
- “She hopped a train to New York and tracked them down. She’s a survivor, Maia. She didn’t let what you did to her wreck her. A lot of people would have.”
- I wanted her, wanted her to come back, wanted to explain, but all I could do was howl.
- Isabelle leaned back against the wall. “Did you ever wonder why I’m so different from my brothers?” she asked without preamble. “Alec and Jace, I mean.” Simon blinked. “You mean aside from the whole thing where you’re a girl and they … aren’t?”
- “I swear on the Angel.” He ducked his head down, kissed her cheek. “The hell with that. I swear on us.” Clary wound her fingers into the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Why us?” “Because there isn’t anything I believe in more.”
- aww
- He didn’t reply, just got up off the floor and picked up his shirt. He looked at Clary, and almost smiled. “If we’re going to the Silent City, you might want to get dressed. I mean, I appreciate the bra-and-panties look, but I don’t know if the Silent Brothers will. There are only a few of them left, and I don’t want them to die of excitement.”
- so I wasn’t invited.” “I guess you’re coming as my date now.” Simon shoved the phone back into his pocket. “I’m secure enough in my masculinity to accept that,” said Jordan. “We’d better get you something nice to wear, though,” he called as Simon headed back into his room. “I want you to look pretty.”
- Don’t bother her, don’t try to talk to her, don’t even look at her, or I’ll fold you in half so many times you’ll look like a tiny little origami werewolf.” Simon snorted. “Laugh away.” Isabelle pointed at him. “She doesn’t want to talk to you, either. So despite the fact that she looks totally babelicious tonight—and if I were into chicks I would completely go for her—neither of you are allowed to talk to her. Got it?”
- She was so pale under the diffuse lamplight that she looked almost transparent, as if Simon could have looked right through her. The way, he supposed, he always had.
- All stories are true,” said Isabelle. This had been a tenet of her beliefs since she was a child. All Shadowhunters believed it. There was no one religion, no one truth—and no myth lacked meaning. “You know that, Alec.”
- Maia especially was acquitting herself well. At least a dozen cultists lay crumpled around her, and she was laying into another one with a blazing fury, her clawed hands red to the wrists.
- Lilith looked at him, shaking her head slowly, her dark hair swirling around her like smoke. “I am the oldest of demons,” she said. “I am not a man. I have no male pride for you to trick me with, and I am not interested in single combat. That is entirely a weakness of your sex, not mine. I am a woman. I will use any weapon and all weapons to get what I want.”
- “You and your name-dropping,” he said. “‘I knew Michael.’ ‘I knew Sammael.’ ‘The angel Gabriel did my hair.’ It’s like I’m with the Band with biblical figures.”
- This was Jace being brave, Simon thought, brave and snarky because he thought Lilith was going to kill him, and that was the way he wanted to go, unafraid and on his feet. Like a warrior. The way Shadowhunters did. His death song would always be this—jokes and snideness and pretend arrogance, and that look in his eyes that said, I’m better than you. Simon just hadn’t realized it before.
- Jace could survive a lot, Simon knew, but a fall from a forty-story building might be too much even for him.
- The explanation took less time than Clary thought it would, with Isabelle doing much of the talking with wide, sweeping hand gestures that threatened, on occasion, to sever one of her friends’ unprotected limbs with her whip.
- ahahaha perfect
- “You’re a vampire. It’s in your nature to want to drink blood. You’ve held out a long time without doing it. I know you can walk in the sun, Simon, and so you pride yourself on being a normal human boy, but you’re still what you are. Just like I am. The more you try to crush your true nature, the more it will control you. Be what you are. No one who really loves you will stop.”
nov 23 2014 ∞
nov 23 2014 +
nov 23 2014 +