City of Fallen Angels

“I just want to look at you. I want to see your face.”


She felt his chest rise and fall once, fast. A shudder went through him, as if he were fighting something, pushing against it. Then he moved, the way only he could move, so swiftly it was like a flash of light. He kept his right arm tight around her; his left hand slid the knife into his belt.

Her heart leaped wildly. I could run, she thought, but he would only catch her, and it was only a moment. Seconds later both arms were around her again, his hands on her arms, turning her. She felt his fingers trail over her back, her bare, shivering arms, as he spun her to face him.

She was looking away from Simon now, away from the demon woman, though she could still feel their presence at her back, shivering up her spine. She looked up at Jace. His face was so familiar. The lines of it, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the faint scar over his cheekbone, another at his temple. His eyelashes a shade darker than his hair. His eyes were the color of pale yellow glass. That was where he was different, she thought. He still looked like Jace, but his eyes were clear and blank, as if she were looking through a window into an empty room.

“I’m afraid,” she said.

He stroked her shoulder, sending sparks winging through her nerves; with a feeling of sickness she realized her body still responded to his touch. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She stared at him. You really think that, don’t you? Somehow you can’t see the disconnect between your actions and your intentions. Somehow she’s taken that away from you.

“You won’t be able to stop her,” she said. “She’s going to kill me, Jace.”

He shook his head. “No. She wouldn’t do that.”

Clary wanted to scream, but she kept her voice deliberate, careful, calm. “I know you’re in there, Jace. The real you.” She pressed closer to him. The buckle on his belt dug into her waist. “You could fight her…”

It had been the wrong thing to say. He tensed all over, and she saw a flash of anguish in his eyes, the look of an animal in a trap. In another instant it had turned to hardness. “I can’t.”

She shivered. The look on his face was awful, so awful. At her shudder his eyes softened. “Are you cold?” he said, and for a moment he sounded like Jace again, concerned about her well-being. It made her throat hurt.

She nodded, though physical cold was the furthest thing from her mind. “Can I put my hands inside your jacket?”

He nodded. His jacket was unbuttoned; she slid her arms inside, her hands touching his back lightly. Everything was eerily silent. The city seemed frozen inside an icy prism. Even the light radiating off the buildings around them was still and cold.

He breathed slowly, steadily. She could see the rune on his chest through the torn fabric of his shirt. It seemed to pulse when he breathed. It was sickening, she thought, attached to him like that, like a leech, sucking out what was good, what was Jace.

She remembered what Luke had said to her about destroying a rune. If you disfigure it enough, you can minimize or destroy its power. Sometimes in battle the enemy will try to burn or slice off a Shadowhunter’s skin, just to deprive them of the power of their runes.

She kept her eyes fixed on Jace’s face. Forget about what’s happening, she thought. Forget about Simon, about the knife at your throat. What you say now matters more than anything you’ve ever said before.

“Remember what you said to me in the park?” she whispered.

He looked down at her, startled. “What?”

“When I told you I didn’t speak Italian. I remember what you told me, what that quote meant. You said it meant love is the most powerful force on earth. More powerful than anything else.”

A tiny line appeared between his eyebrows. “I don’t …”

“Yes, you do.” Tread carefully, she told herself, but she couldn’t help it, couldn’t help the strain that surfaced in her voice. “You remember. The most powerful force there is, you said. Stronger than Heaven or Hell. It has to be more powerful than Lilith, too.”

Nothing. He stared at her as if he couldn’t hear her. It was like shouting down into a black, empty tunnel. Jace, Jace, Jace. I know you’re in there.

“There’s a way you could protect me and still do what she wants,” she said. “Wouldn’t that be the best thing?” She pressed her body closer against his, feeling her stomach twist. It was like holding Jace and not like it, all at the same time, joy and horror mixed together. And she could feel his body react to her, the drumbeat of his heart in her ears, her veins; he had not stopped wanting her, whatever layers of control Lilith exerted over his mind.