The City of Fallen Angels (Mortal Instruments 4)

His voice trailed off. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected would happen when his self-appointed bodyguards realized he’d sneaked out of the apartment behind their backs. It had definitely involved some form of the phrase “Try that again, and I’ll kill you.” What it hadn’t involved was Kyle and Jace sitting on the futon couch side by side, looking for all the world like newly minted best friends. Kyle had a video game controller in his hands, and Jace was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, watching intently. They barely seemed to notice Simon’s entrance.

 

“That guy over there in the corner is totally looking the other way,” Jace observed, pointing at the TV screen. “A spinning wheel kick would put him out of commission.”

 

“I can’t kick people in this game. I can only shoot them. See?” Kyle mashed some buttons.

 

“That’s stupid.” Jace looked over and seemed to see Simon for the first time. “Back from your breakfast meeting, I see,” he said without much welcome in his tone. “I bet you thought you were very clever, sneaking off like that.”

 

“Medium clever,” Simon acknowledged. “Like a cross between George Clooney in Ocean’s Eleven and those MythBusters guys, but, you know, better-looking.”

 

“I’m always so glad I have no idea what you’re vacantly chattering about,” said Jace. “It fills me with a sense of peace and well-being.”

 

Kyle set his controller down, leaving the screen frozen on a close-up of an enormous needle-tipped gun. “I’ll take a bagel.”

 

Simon tossed him one, and Kyle headed into the kitchen, which was separated from the living room by a long counter, to toast and butter his breakfast. Jace looked at the white bag and waved a dismissive hand. “No, thanks.”

 

Simon sat down on the coffee table. “You ought to eat something.”

 

“Look who’s talking.”

 

“I’m out of blood right now,” Simon said. “Unless you’re offering.”

 

“No, thanks. We’ve been down that road before, and I think we’re better off as just friends.” Jace’s tone was as lightly sarcastic as ever, but this close up, Simon could see how pale he looked, and that his eyes were ringed with gray shadows. The bones of his face seemed to be sticking out more prominently than they had before.

 

“Really,” Simon said, pushing the bag across the table toward Jace. “You should eat something. I’m not kidding.”

 

Jace glanced down at the bag of food, and winced. The lids of his eyes were grayish blue with exhaustion. “The thought makes me sick, to be honest.”

 

“You fell asleep last night,” Simon said. “When you were supposed to be guarding me. I know this bodyguard thing is mostly a joke to you, but still. How long has it been since you slept?”

 

 

 

“As in, through the night?” Jace considered. “Two weeks. Maybe three.”

 

Simon’s mouth opened. “Why? I mean, what’s going on?”

 

Jace offered the ghost of a smile. “‘I could be bounded in a nut shell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.’”

 

“I actually know that one. Hamlet. So you’re saying you can’t sleep because you’re having nightmares?”

 

“Vampire,” said Jace, with a tired certainty, “you have no idea.”

 

“Hey.” Kyle came back around the counter and flung himself down in the nubby armchair. He took a bite out of his bagel. “What’s going on?”

 

“I went to meet Luke,” Simon said, and explained what had happened, seeing no reason to hide it. He left out any mention of Camille wanting him not just because he was a Daylighter, but also because of the Mark of Cain. Kyle nodded when he was done. “Luke Garroway. He’s the head of the downtown pack. I’ve heard of him. He’s kind of a big shot.”

 

“His real name isn’t Garroway,” said Jace. “He used to be a Shadowhunter.”

 

“Right. I heard that, too. And now he’s been instrumental with all the new Accords stuff.” Kyle glanced at Simon.

 

“You know some important people.”

 

“Important people are a lot of trouble,” Simon said. “Camille, for instance.”

 

“Once Luke tells Maryse what’s going on, the Clave will take care of her,” said Jace.

 

“There are protocols for dealing with rogue Downworlders.” At that, Kyle looked at him sideways, but Jace didn’t seem to notice. “I already told you I don’t think she’s the one trying to kill you. She knows—” Jace broke off. “She knows better than that.”

 

“And besides, she wants to use you,” Kyle said.

 

“Good point,” said Jace. “No one’s going to off a valuable resource.”

 

Simon looked from one of them to the other, and shook his head. “When did you two get so buddy-buddy? Last night it was all, ‘I’m the most elite warrior!’ ‘No, I’m the most elite warrior!’ And today you’re playing Halo and giving each other props for good ideas.”

 

“We realized we have something in common,” said Jace. “You annoy us both.”

 

“In that vein, I had a thought,” Simon said. “I don’t think either of you are going to like it, though.”

 

Kyle raised his eyebrows. “Let’s hear it.”

 

 

 

“The problem with you guys watching me all the time,” Simon said, “is that if you do, the guys trying to kill me won’t try it again, and if they don’t try it again, then we won’t know who they are, and plus, you’ll have to watch me all the time. And I assume you have other things you’d rather be doing. Well,” he added in Jace’s direction, “possibly you don’t.”

 

“So?” said Kyle. “What’s your suggestion?”

 

“We lure them out. Get them to attack again. Try to capture one of them and find out who sent them.”

 

“If Irecall,” said Jace,“Ihad this idea the other day, and youdidn’t like it much.”

 

“Iwas tired,” Simonsaid. “But nowI’ve beenthinking.And so far,inmyexperience withevildoers,theydon’tgo away just because you ignore them. They keep on coming in different ways. So either I make these guys come to me, or I spend forever waiting for them to attack again.”

 

“I’m in,” Jace said, though Kyle still looked dubious. “So do you just want to go out and wander around until they show up again?”

 

“I thought I’d make it easy for them. Show up somewhere everyone knows I’m supposed to be.”

 

“You mean . . . ?” said Kyle.

 

Simon pointed to the flyer taped to the fridge. MILLENNIUM LINT, OCTOBER 16, THE ALTO BAR, BROOKLYN.

 

9 P.M. “I mean the gig. Why not?” His headache was still there, full force; he pushed it back, trying not to think about how exhausted he was, or how he’d push himself through the gig. He had to get more blood somehow. Had to.

 

Jace’s eyes were shining. “You know, that’s actually a pretty good idea there, vampire.”

 

“You want them to attack you onstage?” Kyle asked.

 

“It’ll make for an exciting show,” said Simon, with more bravado than he really felt. The idea of being attacked one more time was almost more than he could stand, even if he didn’t fear for his personal safety. He wasn’t sure he could bear to watch the Mark of Cain do its work again.

 

Jace shook his head.“Theydon’t attack inpublic. They’ll wait till after the show.And we’ll be there to deal with them.”

 

Kyle shook his head. “I don’t know . . .”

 

They went a few more rounds, Jace and Simon on one side of the argument and Kyle on the other. Simon felt a little guilty. If Kyle knew about the Mark, he’d be a lot easier to persuade. Eventually he cracked under the pressure and reluctantly agreed to what he continued to insist was “a stupid plan.”

 

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