"Is standing by the window muttering about blood something he does all the time?" asked Simon. "No," Jace said. "Sometimes he sits on the couch and does it."
Cassandra ClareMagnus did not like to go near the Hotel Dumont if he could help it. It was decrepit and unsettling, it held bad memories, and it also occasionally held his evil former lady love.
Cassandra ClareFilters are for cigarrettes and coffee," Simon muttered under his breath as they went inside. "Two things I could use right now, incidentally.
Cassandra ClareOne of the heavy marble busts that lined the higher shelves had slid free and was falling toward her; she ducked out of its way, and it hit the floor inches from where she'd been standing, leaving a sizable dent in the floor. A second later Jace's arms were around her and he was lifting her off her feet. She was too surprized to struggle as he carried her over to the broken window and dumped her unceremoniously out of it.
Cassandra ClareFor as is often the happenstance with that which is precious and lost, when you find him again, he may well not be quite as you left him.
Cassandra ClareShe opened her mouth to answer, but he was already kissing her. She had kissed him so many timesโsoft gentle kisses, hard and desperate ones, brief brushes of the lips that said good-bye, and kisses that seemed to go on for hoursโand this was no different. The way the memory of someone who had once lived in a house might linger even after they were gone, like a sort of psychic imprint, her body remembered Jace. Remembered the way he tasted, the slant of his mouth over hers, his scars under her fingers, the shape of his body under her hands.
Cassandra Clare