Alec looked at her and shook his head. How do you manage never to get mud on your clothes?Isabelle shrugged philosophically. I'm pure at heart. It repels the dirt.
Going round and around inside a dryer can be fatal, whereas pasta is rarely fatal. Unless Isabelle makes it.
Izzy, are you—” he began. His eyes flew wide, and he backed up fast enough to smack his head into the wall behind him. “What is he doing here?”Isabelle tugged her tank top back down and glared at her brother. “You don’t knock now?”“It—It’s my bedroom!” Alec spluttered. He seemed to be deliberately trying not to look at Izzy and Simon, who were indeed in a very compromising position. Simon rolled quickly off Isabelle, who sat up, brushing herself off as if for lint. Simon sat up more slowly, trying to hold the torn edges of his shirt together. “Why are all my clothes on the floor?” Alec said.“I was trying to find something for Simon to wear,” Isabelle explained. “Maureen put him in leather pants and a puffy shirt because he was being her romance-novel slave.”“He was being her what?”“Her romance-novel slave,” Isabelle repeated, as if Alec were being particularly dense.Alec shook his head as if he were having a bad dream. “You know what? Don’t explain. Just—put your clothes on, both of you.
She made an impatient noise. By the Angel, you don't know anything about your kid, do you? Do you even really know how vampires are made?Well, when a mommy vampire and a daddy vampire love each other very much ...
You don't get it, Clary. You don't understand what it's like to live always at war, to grow up with battle and sacrifice. I guess it's not your fault. It's just how you were brought up-
She saw Luke, standing atop a pile of bones. Jace with white feathered wings sprouting out of his back, Isabelle sitting naked with her whip curled around her like a net of gold rings, Simon with crosses burned into the palms of his hands. Angels, falling and burning. Falling out of the sky.
As if we’d have sex in a cave surrounded by hordes of demons. This is reality, not your fevered imagination.
Sometimes people get taken away from you whether you want it or not. And sometimes that hurts so much, it might be easier to forget.
Do people ever climb the demon towers? Like, for any reason? Aline looked up. Climb the demon towers? She laughed. No, no one ever does that. It's totally illegal, for one thing, and besides, why would you want to? Aline, Isabelle thought, did not have much imagination. She herself could think of lots of reasons why someone might want to climb the demon towers, if only to spit gum down on passerbys below.
He thought of his remembrance of Jordan, thought of how it hurt to even look at Isabelle and Clary. Without memory, they were lost. And nobody wanted someone they loved to be lost.
Goodness, that stuff rips like paper,” she exclaimed, reaching to pull her tank top off. She was halfway through the action when the door opened and Alec walked into the room.“Izzy, are you—” he began. His eyes flew wide, and he backed up fast enough to smack his head into the wall behind him. “What is he doing here?”Isabelle tugged her tank top back down and glared at her brother. “You don’t knock now?”“It—It’s my bedroom!” Alec spluttered. He seemed to be deliberately trying not to look at Izzy and Simon, who were indeed in a very compromising position.
Shapes began to appear in the mist as it thickened. Clary saw herself and Simon as children, holding hands, crossing a street in Brooklyn; she had barrettes in her hair and Simon was adorably rumpled, his glasses sliding off his nose. There they were again, throwing snowballs in Prospect Park; and at Luke's farmhouse, tanned from summer, hanging upside down from tree branches. She saw them in Java Jones, listening to Eric's terrible poetry, and on the back of a flying motorcycle as it crashed into a parking lot, with Jace there, looking at them, his eyes squinted against the sun. And there was Simon with Isabelle, his hands curved around her face, kissing her, and she could see Isabelle as Simon saw her: fragile and strong, and so, so beautiful. And there was Valentine's ship, Simon kneeling on Jace, blood on his mouth and shirt, and blood at Jace's throat, and there was the cell in Idris, and Hodge's weathered face, and Simon and Clary again, Clary etching the Mark of Cain onto his forehead. Maureen, and her blood on the floor, and her little pink hat, and the rooftop in Manhattan where Lilith had raised Sebastian, and Clary was passing him a gold ring across a table, and an Angel was rising out of a lake before him and he was kissing Isabelle...
Isabelle! he called again. Let down your raven hair. Oh, my God, Clary muttered. There was something in that blood Raphael gave you, wasn't there? I'm going to kill him. He's already dead, Simon observed. He's undead. Obviously he can still die, you know, again. I'll re-kill him.
Aline! Isabelle looked appalled. You can't just go around asking people what it's like to be a vampire.
... As could the sarcasm in her voice. yes, she's bleeding to deat Lu upstairs, but i thought I'd avoid telling you right away, because I like to draw the suspense out.
Today 5:14 p.m.Mrrrrrowl. Mrrrrrowl.Ow! Ow, stupid cat! Ahem. You told me, 'stop calling, Isabelle,' but I'm not the one calling you. Church is calling you. Mine are merely the fingers that work the phone.See, here's something you may not have known before you committed your recent rash acts. Our cat, Church, and your cat, Chairman Meow? They're in love. I've never seen such love before. I never knew such love could exist in the heart of a... cat. Some people say that love between two dude cats is wrong, but I think it's beautiful. Love makes Church happier than I've ever seen him. Nothing makes him happy like Chairman Meow. Not tuna. Not shredding centuries-old tapestries. Nothing. Please don't keep these cats apart. Please don't take the joy of love away from Church.Look, this is really just a warning for your own good. If you keep Church and Chairman Meow apart, Church will start to get angry.You wouldn't like Church when he's angry.Beep
Isabelle snorted. 'All the boys are gay. In this truck, anyway. Well, not you, Simon.''You noticed' said Simon.'I think of myself as a freewheeling bisexual,' added Magnus.'Please never say those words in front of my parents,' said Alec. 'Especially my father.''I thought your parents were okay with you, you know, coming out,' Simon said, leaning around Isabelle to look at Alec, who was — as he often was — scowling, and pushing his floppy dark hair out of his eyes. Aside from the occasional exchange, Simon had never talked to Alec much. He wasn’t an easy person to get to know. But, Simon admitted to himself, his own recent estrangement from his mother made him more curious about Alec’s answer than he would have been otherwise.'My mother seems to have accepted it,' Alec said. 'But my father — no, not really. Once he asked me what I thought had turned me gay.'Simon felt Isabelle tense next to him. 'Turned you gay?' She sounded incredulous. 'Alec, you didn’t tell me that.''I hope you told him you were bitten by a gay spider,' said Simon.Magnus snorted; Isabelle looked confused. 'I’ve read Magnus’s stash of comics,' said Alec, 'so I actually know what you’re talking about' A small smile played around his mouth. 'So would that give me the proportional gayness of a spider?''Only if it was a really gay spider,' said Magnus, and he yelled as Alec punched him in the arm. 'Ow, okay, never mind.
Simon snorted. If you ever meet the man who could take advantage of Isabelle, you'll have to let me know. I'd like to shake his hand. Or run away from him very fast, I'm not sure which.
Speaking of luck, Isabelle Lightwood is a total babe. Actually, she's better than a babe: She's a hero. She came all the way here to tell the world you were hers. You're telling me she doesn't know another hero when she sees one? You're going to figure out what you're doing here. Isabelle Lightwood believes in you, and for what it's worth, I do too.
He shoved his hips against her, reminding her of what they had just done, and said, “I had never bedded a woman before you. I made that plain. Did you think I let you seduce me lightly? No, I did not. You made a deal with me the moment you gave me entry into your body.”“I made no such deal!” Her eyes were angry—and frightened—but he would not let her make him back down.“Precious Isabel,” he whispered. “You made a deal with your heart, your soul, and your body, and you sealed it with the wash of your climax on my c*ck.”She blinked, looking dazed. He’d never used such words before, especially not with her, but their bluntness was necessary.