City of Fallen Angels

But maybe you never really had someone, she thought now. Maybe, no matter how much you loved them, they could slip through your fingers like water, and there was nothing you could do about it. She understood why people talked about hearts “breaking;” she felt as if hers were made of cracked glass, and the shards were like tiny knives inside her chest when she breathed. Imagine your life without him, the Seelie Queen had said—


The phone rang, and for a moment Clary felt only relieved that something, anything, had cut through her misery. Her second thought was, Jace. Maybe he couldn’t reach her on her cell phone and was calling her house. She dropped the ring on her bedside table and reached to lift the receiver out of its cradle. She was about to voice a greeting when she realized that the phone had already been picked up, by her mother.

“Hello?” Her mother sounded anxious, and surprisingly awake for so early in the morning.

The voice that answered was unfamiliar, faintly accented. “This is Catarina from Beth Israel hospital. I’m looking for Jocelyn.”

Clary froze. The hospital? Had something happened, maybe to Luke? He had pulled out of the driveway awfully fast—

“This is Jocelyn.” Her mother didn’t sound frightened, but rather as if she’d expected the call. “Thank you for calling me back so soon.”

“Of course. I was glad to hear from you. You don’t often see people recover from a curse like the one you were suffering from.” Right, Clary thought. Her mother had been in Beth Israel, comatose from the effects of the potion she’d taken to prevent Valentine from interrogating her. “And any friend of Magnus Bane’s is a friend of mine.”

Jocelyn sounded strained. “Did my message make sense? You know what I was calling about?”

“You wanted to know about the child,” said the woman on the other end of the line. Clary knew she ought to hang up, but she couldn’t. What child? What was going on? “The one who was abandoned.”

There was a catch in Jocelyn’s voice. “Y-yes. I thought—”

“I’m sorry to say this, but he’s dead. He died last night.”

For a moment Jocelyn was silent. Clary could feel her mother’s shock through the phone line. “Died? How?”

“I’m not sure I understand it myself. The priest came last night to baptize the child, and—”

“Oh, my God.” Jocelyn’s voice shook. “Can I—Could I please come down and look at the body?”

There was a long silence. Finally the nurse said, “I’m not sure about that. The body’s in the morgue now, awaiting transfer to the medical examiner’s office.”

“Catarina, I think I know what happened to the boy.” Jocelyn sounded breathless. “And if I could confirm it, maybe I could prevent it from happening again.”

“Jocelyn—”

“I’m coming down,” Clary’s mother said, and hung up the phone. Clary gazed blankly at the receiver for a moment before hanging up herself. She scrambled to her feet, ran a brush through her hair, tossed on jeans and a sweater, and was out her bedroom door just in time to catch her mother in the living room, scribbling a note on the pad of paper by the telephone. She looked up as Clary came in, and gave a guilty start.

“I was just running out,” she said. “A few last-minute wedding things have come up, and—”

“Don’t bother lying to me,” Clary said without preamble. “I was listening on the phone, and I know exactly where you’re going.”

Jocelyn paled. Slowly she set her pen down. “Clary—”

“You have to stop trying to protect me,” Clary said. “I bet you didn’t say anything to Luke, either, about calling the hospital.”

Jocelyn pushed her hair back nervously. “It seems unfair on him. With the wedding coming up and everything—”

“Right. The wedding. You’re having a wedding. And why is that? Because you’re getting married. Don’t you think it’s time you started trusting Luke? And trusting me?”

“I do trust you,” Jocelyn said softly.

“In that case you won’t mind me coming with you to the hospital.”

“Clary, I don’t think—”

“I know what you think. You think this is just like what happened to Sebastian—I mean Jonathan. You think maybe someone’s out there doing to babies what Valentine did to my brother.”

Jocelyn’s voice shook slightly. “Valentine’s dead. But there are others who were in the Circle who have never been caught.”

And they never found Jonathan’s body. It wasn’t something Clary liked to think about. Besides, Isabelle had been there and had always been adamant that Jace had severed Jonathan’s spine with the blade of a dagger and that Jonathan had been quite, quite dead as a result. She had gone down into the water and checked, she’d said. There had been no pulse, no heartbeat.

“Mom,” Clary said. “He was my brother. I have a right to come with you.”

Very slowly Jocelyn nodded. “You’re right. I suppose you do.” She reached for her purse where it hung on a peg by the door. “Well, come on, then, and get your coat. The weather forecast says it might rain.”