He Had To Think He Was Michael

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.

For A Split Second Longer She Stood Motionless. 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.

Dear Me. Such Harsh Truths So Early In The Morning Cannot Be Good For The Digestion.

Though Alec Had Never Seen The Occupants Of The First Floor Loft, They Seemed To Be Engaged In A Tempestuous Romance. Once There Had Been A Bunch Of Someone's Belongings Strewn All Over The Landing With A Note Attached To A Jacket Lapel Addressed To "a Lying Liar Who Lies." Right Now There Was A Bouquet Of Flowers Taped To The Door With A Card Tucked Among The Blooms That Read I'm Sorry. That Was The Thing About New York: You Always Knew More About Your Neighbors' Business Than You Wanted To.

You're Not Going,"he Said As Soon As She'd Finished. "if I Have To Tie You Up And Sit On You Until This Insane Whim Of Yurs Passes, You Are Not Going To Idris." Clary Felt As If He'd Slapped Her. She Had Thought He'd Be Pleased. She'd Run All The Way From The Hospital To The Institute To Tell Him, And Here He Was Standing In The Entryway Glaring At Her With A Look Of Grim Death. "but You're Going.