I wouldn't call that an instrument of music," Ragnor observed sourly. "An instrument of torture, perhaps.

Are you implying that shreds of my reputation remain intact?" Will demanded with mock horror. "Clearly I have been doing something wrong. Or not something wrong, as the case may be." He banged on the side of the carriage. "Thomas! We must away at once to the nearest brothel. I seek scandal and low companionship.

Jace knew he was being cruel, and he barely cared. Hurting people he loved was almost as good as hurting himself when he was in this kind of mood.

And there are vampires, too? Werewolves, warlocks, all that stuff?" Clary gnawed her lower lip. "So I hear." "And you kill them, too?" Simon asked, directing the question to Jace, who had put the stele back in his pocket and was examining his flawless nails for defects. "Only when they've been naughty.

What if everything you believe is wrong and you could still be loved and still be forgiven?

I may be a killer," Jace said, "but I know what I am. Can you say the same?

Demon hunting and fashion," Clary said. "I never would have thought they went together.