You Can't Raise A Child To Believe

Simon Turned To Jordan, Who Was Lying Down Across The Futon, His Head Propped Against One Of The Woven Throw Pillows. "how Much Of That Did You Hear?" "enough To Gather That We're Going To A Party Tonight," Said Jordan. "i Heard About The Ironworks Event. I'm Not In The Garroway Pack, So I Wasn't Invited." "i Guess You're Coming As My Date Now." Simon Shoved The Phone Back Into His Pocket. "i'm Secure Enough In My Masculinity To Accept That," Said Jordan. "we'd Better Get You Something Nice To Wear, Though," He Called As Simon Headed Back Into His Room. "i Want You To Look Pretty.

Now Before We Do Any Digging Around In That Blond Head Of Yours To Find Out The Truth, I Suggest You Cool Your Temper. And I Know Just Where You Can Do That Best.” Jace Blinked. “are You Sending Me To My Room?

If You Knew How To Cook, Maybe I Would Eat," Jace Muttered. Isabelle Froze, Her Spoon Poised Dangerously. "what Did You Say?" Jace Edged Toward The Fridge. "i Said I'm Going To Look For A Snack To Eat." That's What I Thought You Said." Isabelle Turned Her Attention To The Soup.

When The Fey Were Worried, It Was Time To Panic.

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.