What did Isabelle want?" Jace asked. Alec hesitated. "Isabelle says the Queen of the Seelie Court has requested an audience with us." "Sure," said Magnus. "And Madonna wants me as a backup dancer on her next world tour." Alec looked puzzled. "Who's Madonna?" "Who's the Queen of the Seelie Court?" said Clary. "She is the Queen of Faerie," said Magnus. "Well, the local one, anyway." Jace put his head in his hands. "Tell Isabelle no." "But she thinks it's a good idea," Alec protested. "Then tell her no twice.
Cassandra Clareโ Turned you gay?โ She sounded incredulous. โ Alec, you didnโ t tell me gay?โ She sounded incredulous. โ Alec, you didnโ t tell me that.โ โ I hope you told him you were bitten by a gay spider,โ said Simon.
Cassandra ClareYes," Jace said, "I regret having disobeyed you." No! Clary thought, but her heart sank. Was he giving up, did he think it was the only way to save her and Simon? Valentine's face softened. "Jonathan-" "Especially," Jace said, "since I plan to do it again. Right now.
Cassandra ClarePerhaps he's in love with Agatha," she said. "I hope not. I intend to marry Agatha myself. She may be a thousand years old, but she makes an incomparable jam tart. Beauty fades, but cooking is eternal.
Cassandra ClareAre you threatening to kidnap me?" "If you want to look at it that way," Jace said, "yes.
Cassandra ClareBefore Simon could answer, he heard the sound of the front door opening. He looked daggers at Jace. "That's my roommate. Kyle. Be nice." Jace smiled charmingly. "I'm always nice.
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