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- “Because,” he said, and this time he sounded even colder, “to her you’re Jocelyn’s daughter. But I’ll always be Valentine’s son.”
- ouch
- “I did not. He broke up with me.” “Because you weren’t in love with him. That’s an iffy proposition, and I think he’s handling it with grace. A lot of teenage boys would sulk, or lurk around under your window with a boom box.”
- “If I feel the urge to burst into flames, I’ll let you know.”
- “Even if you thought it would help the Clave,” Simon said, “you’d never let them have her.” “What makes you say that, vampire?” “Because no one can have her but you,” said Simon.
- “But you’ve never drunk fresh blood. Have you?” Simon raised his own eyebrows in response. “Well, aside from mine, of course,” Jace said. “And I’m sure my blood is fantastic.”
- “Hello?” Isabelle called from the other side. “Simon, is your diva moment over? I need to talk to Jace.”
- “You’d better hurry up to the Gard and back. God knows what depravity we might get up to here without your guidance.”
- AVE ATQUE VALE. “What does that mean?” she asked, turning to Luke. “It means ‘Hail and farewell.’ It’s from a poem by Catullus.
- torn from the spiral-bound notebook he used as a journal.
- what? alec's got a journal??
- “Does your brother look as much like Valentine as you look like Jocelyn?” “No,” Clary said. “Jace just looks like himself.”
- I’ve always put saving my own skin first.” “I’m sure that’s not true.” “Actually,” said Samuel, “it is. One thing you’ll learn as you get older, Simon, is that when people tell you something unpleasant about themselves, it’s usually true.”
- He offered her his arm. “Shall we?” She managed a smile. “You’re kind of pushy, you know.” He shrugged. “I have a fetish for damsels in distress.” “Don’t be sexist.” “Not at all. My services are also available to gentlemen in distress. It’s an equal opportunity fetish,”
- turned to face Jace. His eyes were normally the color of Lake Lyn, a pale, untroubled blue, but the color tended to change with his moods. At the moment they were the color of the East River during a thunderstorm. His expression was stormy as well.
- And no offense, but you’re a stranger.” “I’d like not to be,” he said. “I’d like to get to know you better.” He was looking at her with a mixture of amusement and a certain shyness, as if he wasn’t sure how what he’d just said would be received. “Sebastian,” she said, with a sudden feeling of overwhelming tiredness. “I’m glad you want to get to know me. But I just don’t have the energy to get to know you. Sorry.”
- are u crazy?? that was so meeean
- “You’re not happy to see me, then?” Jace said. “I have to say, I’m surprised. I’ve always been told my presence brightened up any room. One might think that went doubly for dank underground cells.”
- Jace’s gaze remained steady. “And quit baring your fangs at me. It’s making me nervous.” “Good,” Simon said. “If you want to know why, it’s because you smell like blood.” “It’s my cologne. Eau de Recent Injury.” Jace raised his left hand. It was a glove of white bandages, stained across the knuckles where blood had seeped through.
- he smelled of, for some reason, black pepper. Not in a bad way—it was spicy and pleasant, very different from Jace’s smell of soap and sunlight.
- he = sebastian
- She clutched him as he caught her, her legs unsteady after the long ride. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to grab you.” “I wouldn’t apologize for that.”
- “Are you—Ragnor Fell? The warlock?” Magnus took the pipe out of his mouth. “Well, I’m certainly not Ragnor Fell the exotic dancer.”
- Magnus looked at her meditatively. “I think,” he said, “there isn’t much that Jace wouldn’t do for you, if you asked him.”
- He’s nice, I promise.” “Nice, bah. He’s gorgeous.” Magnus gazed dreamily in his direction. “You should leave him here. I could hang hats on him and things.”
- Clary hadn’t realized quite how disheveled she looked: her coat streaked with dust, her hair snarled from the wind. She tried to smooth it down discreetly and caught Jace’s grin in the next mirror. For some reason, due doubtless to a mysterious Shadowhunter magic she didn’t have a hope of understanding, his hair looked perfect.
- “You’re my sister,” he said finally. “My sister, my blood, my family. I should want to protect you”—he laughed soundlessly and without any humor—“to protect you from the sort of boys who want to do with you exactly what I want to do.”
- oh god
- “I’m not an angel, Jace,” she repeated. “I don’t return library books. I steal illegal music off the Internet. I lie to my mom. I am completely ordinary.”
- He hadn’t spoken a word since they’d left the manor except to snap out directions, telling her which way to turn at a fork in the road, or ordering her to skirt a pothole. Even then she doubted if he would have minded much if she’d fallen into the pothole, except that it would have slowed them down.
- They rounded the next curve and Jace skidded to a sudden halt, sending Clary crashing into him. In another circumstance it might have been comic. It wasn’t now.
- But then again, it was only recently that Isabelle had realized other girls weren’t just for envying, avoiding, or disliking.
- Isabelle, who had never been much of a reader, always envied other people their ability to get lost in a book. There were a lot of things she once would have envied Aline for—being small and delicately pretty, for one thing, not Amazonian and so tall in heels she towered over almost every boy she met. But then again, it was only recently that Isabelle had realized other girls weren’t just for envying, avoiding, or disliking.
- She didn’t like boys who looked as if they never got mad about anything. In Isabelle’s world, rage equaled passion equaled a good time.
- —Isabelle didn’t enjoy wallowing in her own sorrows, much less other people’s.
- her mind was on Alec and the look they’d shared as he’d gone out the door. It wasn’t the first time she’d watched her brother leave, knowing she might never see him again. It was something she accepted, had always accepted, as part of her life; it wasn’t until she’d gotten to know Clary and Simon that she’d realized that for most people, of course, it was never like that. They didn’t live with death as a constant companion, a cold breath down the back of their neck on even the most ordinary days. She’d always had such contempt for mundanes, the way all Shadowhunters did—she’d believed that they were soft, stupid, sheeplike in their complacency. Now she wondered if all that hatred didn’t just stem from the fact that she was jealous. It must be nice not worrying that every time one of your family members walked out the door, they’d never come back.
- Jace would have said something like that. Jace always knew the right thing to say. But the words that actually came out of Alec’s mouth were quite different—and sounded petulant, even to his own ears. “You never called me back,” he said. “I called you so many times and you never called me back.” Magnus looked at Alec as if he’d lost his mind. “Your city is under attack,” he said. “The wards have broken, and the streets are full of demons. And you want to know why I haven’t called you?” Alec set his jaw in a stubborn line. “I want to know why you haven’t called me back.” Magnus threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of utter exasperation. Alec noted with interest that when he did it, a few sparks escaped from his fingertips, like fireflies escaping from a jar. “You’re an idiot.” “Is that why you didn’t call me? Because I’m an idiot?” “No.” Magnus strode toward him. “I didn’t call you because I’m tired of you only wanting me around when you need something. I’m tired of watching you be in love with someone else—someone, incidentally, who will never love you back. Not the way I do.” “You love me?”
- uh this whole scene
- “You stupid Nephilim,” Magnus said patiently. “Why else am I here? Why else would I have spent the past few weeks patching up all your moronic friends every time they got hurt? And getting you out of every ridiculous situation you found yourself in? Not to mention helping you win a battle against Valentine. And all completely free of charge!” “I hadn’t looked at it that way,” Alec admitted. “Of course not. You never looked at it in any way.” Magnus’s cat eyes shone with anger. “I’m seven hundred years old, Alexander. I know when something isn’t going to work. You won’t even admit I exist to your parents.” Alec stared at him. “I thought you were three hundred! You’re seven hundred years old?” “Well,” Magnus amended, “eight hundred. But I don’t look it. Anyway, you’re missing the point. The point is
- i hope you two work out
- She wondered why she’d ever thought trusting someone who wore that much eyeliner was a good idea.
- He’s not my type.” “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a girl say that before,” said Simon. “I thought Jace was the kind of guy who was everyone’s type.”
- “Of course you’re not,” said Jace, “because you live to torture me, don’t you?”
- “Actually,” Clary said, “I think he stayed because of me.” Jace’s gaze flicked up to hers with a flash of gold. “Because of you? Hoping for another hot date, was he?”
- “Unfortunately, you never really hate anyone as much as someone you cared about once.
- There was something about the way Isabelle wore her scars, as if she was proud of them.
- Like the Seelie Queen said. You were experiments.” He smiled at her startled look. “I’m not stupid. I can put these things together. You with your rune powers, and Jace, well … no one could be that annoying without some kind of supernatural assistance.”
- “Sebastian’s my brother?”
- so clary and jace aren't related?? uuuhh so now they can make out and get naughty ;)
- moving the thread to his left fist and awkwardly carving the tracking rune onto the back of it with his right, less agile, hand.
- oh he's left handed?
- He glanced over at Luke and Jocelyn, who were standing close together. “You two,” he said. “Go on, then. Show the faerie how it works.” Jocelyn blinked in surprise. “What?” “I assumed,” Magnus said, “that you two would be partners, since you’re practically married anyway.”
- omg
- “Not what,” said Alec. “Who. Magnus. I wanted to ask him if he’d be my partner in the battle.
- aww how sweet
- Isabelle, following his gaze, snorted. “Alec, that’s a werewolf. A girl werewolf. In fact, it’s what’s-her-name. May.”
- Alec had his arms around Magnus and was kissing him, full on the mouth.
- WHAT!!! OMGG!!
- Jace felt a flash of fear for Clary, mixed with an odd sort of pride—of course she was at the center of things. That was his Clary.
- “Power doesn’t have to be unlimited to be deadly,”
- Sebastian just smiled. “I could hear your heart beating,” he said softly. “When you were watching me with Valentine. Did it bother you?” “That you seem to be dating my dad?” Jace shrugged. “You’re a little young for him, to be honest.” “What?” For the first time since Jace had met him, Sebastian seemed flabbergasted.
- “Waiting for a special occasion to kill me? Christmas is coming.”
- he looked like the sort of bad angel who might have followed Lucifer out of heaven.
- what he would say if he were down there among the mourners, speaking their last words to Valentine. You were never really my father, he might say, or You were the only father I ever knew. Both statements were equally true, no matter how contradictory.
- He half-closed his eyes and a flood of images washed across the backs of his eyelids: Valentine picking him up off the grass in a sweeping hug; Valentine holding him steady in the prow of a boat on a lake, showing him how to balance. And other, darker memories: Valentine’s hand cracking across the side of his face, a dead falcon, the angel shackled in the Waylands’ cellar.
- “You are who you are now for a reason. And if you ask me, I think Valentine sent you to the Lightwoods because he knew it was the best chance for you. Maybe he had other reasons too. But you can’t get away from the fact that he sent you to people he knew would love you and raise you with love. It might have been one of the few things he ever really did for someone else.”
- “Besides, it’s not like she’s dressing up for anyone.” “She’s dressing up for Jace,” Isabelle said, as if this were obvious. “As well she should.”
- “Or maybe he’s not that interested in you anymore. I mean, now that it’s not forbidden. Some people only want what they can’t have.”
- “You never knew him. He wasn’t the man who raised you. You don’t even look like him, except for your fair hair—but those eyes of yours … I don’t know where you get those.
- “It’s not a scar. It’s a birthmark. There’s an old family legend about it, that one of the first Herondales to become a Shadowhunter was visited by an angel in a dream. The angel touched him on the shoulder, and when he woke up, he had a mark like that. And all his descendants have it as well.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if the story is true, but all the Herondales have the mark. Your father had one too, here.” She touched her right upper arm. “They say it means you’ve had contact with an angel. That you’re blessed, in some way.
- I love you, Jocelyn. I have for twenty years.”
- aww
- “All Lucian wants,” said Amatis firmly, “is you. You and Clary. That’s all he ever wanted. Now go.”
- We would be Shadowhunters and Downworlders, hating each other, instead of Shadowhunters and Downworlders, going to a party together.”
- “Of course, everyone’s going to freak out when you show up at school.” “Freak out? Why?” “Because you’re so much hotter now than when you left.” She shrugged. “It’s true. Must be a vampire thing.” Simon looked baffled. “I’m hotter now?”
- You want a piece of all this fabulousness?” He gestured at himself.
- oh simon
- She thought of the first time she’d seen him. She’d thought he looked like a lion. Beautiful and deadly. He looked different to her now. That hard, defensive casing he wore like armor was gone, and he wore his injuries instead, visibly and proudly.
- “I always thought love made you stupid. Made you weak. A bad Shadowhunter. To love is to destroy. I believed that.”
- “And then I met you. You were a mundane. Weak. Not a fighter. Never trained. And then I saw how much you loved your mother, loved Simon, and how you’d walk into hell to save them. You did walk into that vampire hotel. Shadowhunters with a decade of experience wouldn’t have tried that. Love didn’t make you weak; it made you stronger than anyone I’d ever met. And I realized I was the one who was weak.”
- I never dared give much of myself to anyone before—bits of myself to the Lightwoods, to Isabelle and Alec, but it took years to do it—but, Clary, since the first time I saw you, I have belonged to you completely. I still do. If you want me.”
- Then, somehow, she had caught at the front of his shirt and pulled him toward her. His arms went around her, lifting her almost out of her sandals, and then he was kissing her—or she was kissing him, she wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter. The feel of his mouth on hers was electric; her hands gripped his arms, pulling him hard against her. The feel of his heart pounding through his shirt made her dizzy with joy. No one else’s heart beat like Jace’s did, or ever could.
- BABIES (*´∇｀*)
- The light was back in his eyes, as bright as it had been by the lake, but now there was a wicked sparkle to it. “There,” he said. “That wasn’t so bad, was it, even though it wasn’t forbidden?” “I’ve had worse,” she said, with a shaky laugh.
- “You know,” he said, bending to brush his mouth across hers, “if it’s the lack of forbidden you’re worried about, you could still forbid me to do things.” “What kinds of things?” She felt him smile against her mouth. “Things like this.”
- ow my heart
- “Have some of this!” Clary squinted at it. “Is it going to turn me into a rodent?” “Where is the trust? I think it’s strawberry juice,” Isabelle said. “Anyway, it’s yummy. Jace?” She offered him the glass. “I am a man,” he told her, “and men do not consume pink beverages. Get thee gone, woman, and bring me something brown.” “Brown?” Isabelle made a face. “Brown is a manly color,” said Jace, and yanked on a stray lock of Isabelle’s hair with his free hand. “In fact, look—Alec is wearing it.” Alec looked mournfully down at his sweater. “It was black,” he said. “But then it faded.” “You could dress it up with a sequined headband,” Magnus suggested, offering his boyfriend something blue and sparkly. “Just a thought.”
- “Resist the urge, Alec.” Simon was sitting on the edge of a low wall with Maia beside him, though she appeared to be deep in conversation with Aline. “You’ll look like Olivia Newton-John in Xanadu.” “There are worse things,” Magnus observed.
- “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.”
- yesss
- “I don’t dislike you,” he said. “In fact, because I actually do like you, I’m going to offer you some advice.” “Advice?” Simon looked wary. “I see that you are working this vampire angle with some success,” Jace said, indicating Isabelle and Maia with a nod of his head. “And kudos. Lots of girls love that sensitive-undead thing. But I’d drop that whole musician angle if I were you. Vampire rock stars are played out, and besides, you can’t possibly be very good.”
- It was her mother, smiling at her—and Luke stood beside her, his hand in hers. Jocelyn wasn’t dressed up at all; she wore jeans, and a loose shirt that at least wasn’t stained with paint. You couldn’t have told from the way Luke was looking at her, though, that she looked anything less than perfect.
- aww
- Jace nodded at them, his mouth curling up at the corner in an amused smile.
- i am soo happy, jace must be so thrilled and happy about everything that he just can't stop smiling at everything and nothing at all, really the greatest thing :)
- “I told her I didn’t need a favor,” said Clary. “I told her I had everything I wanted.” Jace laughed at that, softly,
- Every memory was valuable; even the bad ones.
nov 23 2014 ∞
nov 23 2014 +
nov 23 2014 +