Sophie has a gift," she said. "She has the Sight. She can see what others do not. In her old life she often wondered if she was mad. Now she knows that she is not mad but special. There, she was only a parlor maid, who would likely have lost her position once her looks had faded. Now she is a valued member of our household, a gifted girl with much to contribute.

Well, I’m not kissing the mundane," said Jace. "I’d rather stay down here and rot." "Forever?" said Simon. "Forever’s an awfully long time." Jace raised his eyebrows. "I knew it," he said. "You want to kiss me, don’t you?

At least Kyle wasn't home. That would be a hard one to explain to his new roomate. Nobody liked a guy who kept blood in the fridge.

Thank you,” Simon said. “It’s a joke, Isabelle. He’s the Count. He likes counting. You know. ‘What did the Count eat today, children? One chocolate chip cookie, two chocolate chip cookies, three chocolate chip cookies . . .’” There was a rush of cold air as the door of the restaurant opened, letting in another customer. Isabelle shivered and reached for her black silk scarf. “It’s not realistic.” “What would you prefer? ‘What did the Count eat today, children? One helpless villager, two helpless villagers, three helpless villagers . . .

What are you thinking?" "Just how different everything down there is now, you know, now that I can see." "Everything down there is exactly the same," he said. "You're the one that's different.

He said there are thousands of Shadowhunters, but great love comes once in a lifetime if one is lucky, and one would be a fool to let it go.

The kitchen was just as empty, even the refrigerator gone, the chairs, the table--the kitchen cabinets stood open, their bare shelves reminder her of a nursery rhyme. She cleared her throat. "What would demons," she said, "want with our microwave?