Clothes were scattered across the floor in piles, a duffel bag open on the floor as if it had exploded. Isabelle's bright silver-gold whip hung from one bedpost, a lacy white bra from another. Simon averted his eyes. The curtains were drawn, the lamps extinguished. Isabelle flopped down on the edge of the bed and looked at him with bitter amusement. "A blushing vampire. Who would have guessed.

And you don't care that I'm your brother," he said. "I know how you felt about Jace, even when you thought he was your brother. You can't lie to me." "Jace is better than you." "No one's better than me.

Simon had never noticed before, but she wore a silver ring on her right hand, with a partner of flames around the band of it, and a carved L in the center. It reminded him of the ring Clary wore around her neck, with its design of stars. "It's the Lightwood family ring," she said, noticing where his gaze was fixed. "Every family has an emblem. Ours is fire.

It doesn't matter how many times you say it. It'll still be true.' 'And it doesn't matter what you won't let me say, that'll still be true too.

It was a bit warm. Still. If one could look this fabulous, one had an obligation to. One should wear everything, or one should wear nothing at all.

Clearly,' said Luke, 'something's going on that I don't know about.' Simon looked over at him. 'Sometimes I think that's the motto of my life.

i told you he'd freak out, she siad. didn't i? ah, the i told you so, jace said. always a classy move