Clary,” Jocelyn said. “I want you to meet Tessa Gray.

Oh, good. You're starting to talk about yourself in the third person. That's not a sign of impending megalomania or anything.

I'm not sure that's such a great idea." Luke said. "It's a fabulous idea." Jace dropped the paper back onto the table, and began to slide off his jacket. "I've got a stele we can use. Who wants to do me?" "A regrettable choice of words," Magnus muttered.

Maybe. Although I doubt most Shadowhunters get a tattoo of Donatello from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on their left shoulder.

"A date," Jace repeated. "Often a 'boring thing you have to memorize in history class," but in this case,' 'an offer of a n evening of blisteringly white-hot romance with yours truly.'"

The young man who appeared at the mouth of the alley was pale in the lamplight—paler even than he usually was, which was quite pale indeed.

Her name rang in Will's mind like the chime of a bell; he wondered if any other name on earth had such an inescapable resonance to it. She couldn't have been named something awful, could she, like Mildred. He couldn't imagine lying awake at night, staring up at the ceiling while invisible voices whispered 'Mildred' in his ears. But Tessa--