Mom. I Have Something To Tell You.

She Had Imagined Jace Leaping From The Bed In Astonishment And Gasping Something Like "egad!" This Didn't Happen-largely, She Suspected, Because Jace Had Seen Much Stranger Things In His Life, And Also Because Nobody Used The Word "egad!" Anymore. His Eyes Widened, Though.

Mundies Die Awfully Easily, Don't They?" "isabelle, You Know It's Bad Luck To Talk About Death In A Sickroom.

I'm A Werewolf, Not A Golden Retriever.

As The Carriage Whipped Forward, They Passed The Alley She Had Spent So Many Days Staring At—it Was There, And Then Gone As They Careened Around A Corner, Nearly Knocking Over A Costermonger Pushing A Donkey Cart Piled High With New Potatoes. Tessa Screamed. Will Reached Past Her And Yanked The Curtain Shut. "it's Better If You Don't Look," He Told Her Pleasantly. "he's Going To Kill Someone. Or Get Us Killed." "no, He Won't. Thomas Is An Excellent Driver." Tessa Glared At Him. "clearly The Word Excellent Means Something Else On This Side Of The Atlantic.

Look, Did You Ask Me To Come All The Way Uptown Just So You Could Stare At Me Like I Was Something In A Petri Dish? Next Time I'll Send You A Photo." "and I'll Frame It And Put It On My Nightstand," Said Jace.