City of Lost Souls

He snorted, and swung the crossbow up. A bolt was fitted to it, ready to fire. “Walk,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you.”


It took every ounce of effort she had not to flinch away from him. She turned and walked toward the door, feeling a burning between her shoulder blades where she imagined the arrow of the crossbow was trained. They moved like that down the glass stairs and through the kitchen and living room. He grunted at the sight of Clary’s scrawled rune on the wall, reached around her, and under his hand a doorway appeared. The door itself swung open onto a square of darkness.

The crossbow jabbed Clary hard in the back. “Move.”

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out into the shadows.

Alec slammed his hand against the button in the small cage elevator, and slumped back against the wall. “How much time do we have?”

Isabelle checked the glowing screen of her mobile phone. “About forty minutes.”

The elevator lurched upward. Isabelle cast a covert glance at her brother. He looked tired—dark circles were under his eyes. Despite his height and strength, Alec, with his blue eyes and soft black hair almost to his collar, looked more delicate than he was. “I’m fine,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “You’re the one who’s going to be in trouble for staying away from home. I’m over eighteen. I can do what I want.”

“I texted Mom every night and told her I was with you and Magnus,” Isabelle said as the elevator came to a stop. “It’s not like she didn’t know where I was. And speaking of Magnus…”

Alec reached across her and pulled the elevator’s inside cage door open. “What?”

“Are you two okay? I mean, getting along all right?”

Alec shot her an incredulous look as he stepped out into the entryway. “Everything’s going to hell in a handbasket, and you want to know about my relationship with Magnus?”

“I’ve always wondered about that expression,” Isabelle said thoughtfully as she hurried after her brother down the hallway. Alec had long, long legs and, though she was fast, it was hard to keep up with him when he wanted it to be. “Why a handbasket? What is a handbasket, and why is it a particularly good form of transportation?”

Alec, who had been Jace’s parabatai long enough to have learned to ignore conversational tangents, said, “Magnus and I are okay, I guess.”

“Uh-oh,” Isabelle said. “Okay, you guess? I know what it means when you say that. What happened? Did you have a fight?”

Alec was tapping his fingers against the wall as they raced along, a sure sign that he was uncomfortable. “Quit trying to meddle around in my love life, Iz. What about you? Why aren’t you and Simon a couple? You obviously like him.”

Isabelle let out a squawk. “I am not obvious.”

“You are, actually,” Alec said, sounding as if it surprised him, too, now that he thought about it. “Gazing at him all moony-eyed. The way you freaked out at the lake when the Angel appeared—”

“I thought Simon was dead!”

“What, more dead?” said Alec unkindly. Seeing the expression on his sister’s face, he shrugged. “Look, if you like him, fine. I just don’t see why you’re not dating.”

“Because he doesn’t like me.”

“Of course he does. Guys always like you.”

“Forgive me if I think your opinion is biased.”

“Isabelle,” Alec said, and now there was kindness in his voice, the tone she associated with her brother—love and exasperation mixed together. “You know you’re gorgeous. Guys have chased you since… forever. Why would Simon be different?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. But he is. I figure the ball is in his court. He knows how I feel. But I don’t think he’s rushing to do anything about it.”

“To be fair, it’s not like he doesn’t have anything else going on.”

“I know, but—he’s always been like this. Clary—”

“You think he’s still in love with Clary?”

Isabelle chewed her lip. “I—not exactly. I think she’s the one thing he still has from his human life, and he can’t let her go. And as long as he doesn’t let her go, I don’t know if there’s room for me.”

They had almost reached the library. Alec looked sideways at Isabelle through his lashes. “But if they’re just friends—”

“Alec.” She held up her hand, indicating that he should be quiet. Voices were coming from the library, the first one strident and immediately recognizable as their mother’s:

“What do you mean she’s missing?”