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Part of Clary wanted to lean sideways and put her head on her mother's shoulder. She could even close her eyes, pretend everything was all right. The other part of her knew that it wouldn't make a difference; she couldn't keep her eyes closed forever.
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Our hearts, they need a mirror, Tessa. We see our better selves in the eyes of those who love us. And there is a beauty that brevity alone provides. He dropped his gaze, then raised it to hers. I would give you everything of myself, he said. I would give you more in two weeks than most men would give you in a lifetime.
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She saw Valentine's eyes as the sword hurtled toward her; it seemed like eons, though it could only have been a split second. She saw that he could stop the blow if he wanted. Saw that he knew it might well strike her if he didn't. Saw that he was going to do it anyway.
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Jace, she said. Why are you doing this to me? Because you're lying to me. And you're lying to yourself. Jace's eyes were blazing, and even though his hands were stuffed into his pockets, she could see that they were knotted into fists.
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How rude. Many who have gazed upon me have compared the experience to gazing at the radiance of the sun." Jem still had his eyes closed. "If they mean it gives you a headache, they aren't wrong.
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He cut her off with brutal precision. "And one last thing." His eyes flicked toward the door, through which Jace, Alec, and Isabelle had disappeared. "Keep in mind that when your mother fled from the Shadow World, it wasn't the monsters she was hiding from. Not the warlocks, the wolf-men, the Fair Folk, not even the demons themselves. It was them. It was the Shadowhunters.
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Magnus had a list of favored traits in a partner-black hair, blue eyes, honest...
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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.
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I don't know who Azazel is," he said. "Isn't he the cat from The Smurfs?" He cast about, but Isabelle just looked up and rolled her eyes at him. "Clary?" he thought Her voice came through, tinged with alarm. "What is it? What happened? Did my mom find out I'm gone?" "Not yet," he thought back. "Is Azazel the cat from The Smurfs?" There was a long pause. "That's Azrael, Simon. And no more using the magic rings for Smurf questions.
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Good organization, said Magnus. I knew the man who founded it, back in the 1800s. Woolsey Scot. Respectable old werewolf family. Alec made an ugly sound in the back of his throat. Did you sleep with him, too? Magnus's cat eyes widened. Alexander!
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Stop it," he hissed in her ear. "You'll just make it worse for yourself. It's better if you don't look." "Like you do?" she hissed back. "Shutting your eyes and pretending something's not happening doesn't make it not true, Jace. You ought to know better-
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I like that stick of yours," he said. "It's a staff." Jem swung out to knock another automaton sideways. "Made by the Iron Sisters, only for Silent Brothers." [...] "Anyone can sharpen a stick." "It's a staff," Jem repeated, and saw Will's quicksilver smile out of the corner of his eye.
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Sebastian sighed an exaggerated sigh and swung the door shut. Clary stared at Jace. "What the f-" "Language, Fray." Jace's eyes danced. "Relax.
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Will closed his eyes. He could not hear Jem go, not anymore; he did not want to know the moment when he left and Will was alone, did now want to know when his first day as a Shawdowhunter without a parabatai truly began. And if the place over his heart, where his parabatai rune had been, flared up with a sudden burning pain as the door closed behind Jem, Will told himself it was only a stray ember from the fire.
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In Paris one could have the eyes of a cat (as he did) and tell people it was a trick of fashion.
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I wish I could hate you," he said. His voice was light, his mouth curved in an unconcerned half smile, his eyes sick with misery. "I want to hate you. I try to hate you. It would be so much easier if I did hate you. Sometimes I do hate you and then I see you and I...
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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.
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Charlotte, who had sagged back in her chair, her eyes half-closed, said, Will, I have already been up all night copying down the relevant parts. Much of it was— Gibberish? Jem suggested. Pornographic? said Will at the same time. Could be both, said Will. Haven't you ever heard of pornographic gibberish before?
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You want this?" His voice was hoarse. "Yes," she said. "Do you?" His finger traced the outline of her mouth. "For this I would have been damned forever. For this I would have given up everything." She felt the burn behind her eyes, the pressure of tears, and blinked wet eyelashes. "Will..." "Dw i'n dy garu di am byth," he said. "I love you. Always." And he moved to cover her body with his own.
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Clothes were scattered across the floor in piles, a duffel bag open on the floor as if it had exploded. Isabelle's bright silver-gold whip hung from one bedpost, a lacy white bra from another. Simon averted his eyes. The curtains were drawn, the lamps extinguished. Isabelle flopped down on the edge of the bed and looked at him with bitter amusement. "A blushing vampire. Who would have guessed.
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I should have guessed you were Jace's sister," he said. "You both have the same artistic talent." Clary paused, her foot on the lowest stair. She was taken aback. "Jace can draw?" Nah." When Alec smiled, his eyes lit like blue lamps and Clary could see what Magnus had found so captivating about him. "I was just kidding. He can't draw a straight line.
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Tatiana's eyes were huge and poison-green, eyes with enough pain in them to eat away at a world and devour a soul.
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He found himself wanting to write poetry about how her blue eyes were like starlight and her hair like night, because "night" and "starlight" rhymed, but he had a feeling the poem wouldn't turn out that well...
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She closed her hands around his and shut her eyes, imagining their bed cut free of this strange prison, floating through space or on the surface of the ocean, just the two of them alone.
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Do you remember, the night of the battle on Valentine's ship, when I needed some of your strength?" "Do you need it again now?" Alec said. "Because you can have it." "I always need your strength, Alec," Magnus said, and closed his eyes as their intertwined fingers began to shine, as if between them they held the light of a star.
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Quote of the day
Chaos is a name for any order that produces confusion in our minds.
George Santayana
Cassandra Clare
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Born:
July 27, 1973
(age 50)
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