Clary," Jace Said Again. "you Know: Short,

Coaxing Drunken Shadowhunters Into Making Fools Of Themselves Was A Favorite Occupation Among The Downworlders, And This Performance Had Been A Tremendous Success.

She Took Out A Shiny Folded Pamphlet, The Kind They Kept Stacked In Clear Plastic Stands In Hospital Waiting Rooms. "how To Come Out To Your Parents," She Read Out Loud. "luke. Don't Be Ridiculous. Simon's Not Gay, He's A Vampire.

Tessa Had Begun To Tremble. This Is What She Had Always Wanted Someone To Say. What She Had Always, In The Darkest Corner Of Her Heart, Wanted Will To Say. Will, The Boy Who Loved The Same Books She Did, The Same Poetry She Did, Who Made Her Laugh Even When She Was Furious. And Here He Was Standing In Front Of Her, Telling Her He Loved The Words Of Her Heart, The Shape Of Her Soul. Telling Her Something She Had Never Imagined Anyone Would Ever Tell Her. Telling Her Something She Would Never Be Told Again, Not In This Way. And Not By Him. And It Did Not Matter. "it's Too Late", She Said.

Will Remembered The Two Of Them, Running Through The Dark Streets Of London, Jumping From Rooftop To Rooftop, Seraph Blades Gleaming In Their Hands; Hours In The Training Room, Shoving Each Other Into Mud Puddles, Throwing Snowballs At Jessamine From Behind An Ice Fort In The Courtyard, Asleep Like Puppies On The Rug In Front Of The Fire.

He Always Lived In His Head. He Never Cared About How Things Were, Only How They Would Be, Someday, When He Had Everything He Wanted. When We Had Everything We Wanted.