There was a silence. Simon could hear the soft electrical hum of the Christmas lights overhead, the water plashing in the stone fountain in the center of the courtyard, the buzz and hum of the city. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “You said it.”
“What was that, Simon?”
“The word. The wrath of—” The word bit and burned in his mouth, just as it always did.
“Yes. God.” She retracted her hand, but her eyes were warm. “There are many secrets of our kind, so many that I can tell you, show you. You will learn you are not damned.”
“Ma’am—”
“Camille. You must call me Camille.”
“I still don’t understand what you want from me.”
“Don’t you?” She shook her head, and her brilliant hair flew around her face. “I want you to join with me, Simon.
Join with me against Santiago. We will walk together into his rat-infested hotel; the moment his followers see that you are with me, they will leave him and come to me. I believe they are loyal to me beneath their fear of him. Once they see us together, that fear will be gone, and they will come to our side. Man cannot contend with the divine.”
“I don’t know,” Simon said. “In the Bible, Jacob wrestled an angel, and he won.”
Camille looked at him with her eyebrows arched.
Simon shrugged. “Hebrew school.”
“‘And Jacob called the name of the place Peniel: for I have seen God face to face.’ You see, you are not the only one who knows your scripture.” Her narrow look was gone, and she was smiling. “You may not realize it, Daylighter, but as long as you bear that Mark, you are the avenging arm of heaven. No one can stand before you.
Certainly not one vampire.”
“Are you afraid of me?” Simon asked.
He was almost instantly sorry he had. Her green eyes darkened like thunderclouds. “Me, afraid of you?” Then she collected herself, her face smoothing, her expression lightening.
“Of course not,” she said. “You are an intelligent man. Iam convinced you will see the wisdom ofmyproposaland joinwithme.”
“And what exactly is your proposal? I mean, I understand the part where we face down Raphael, but after that? I don’t really hate Raphael, or want to get rid of him just to get rid of him. He leaves me alone. That’s all I ever wanted.”
She folded her hands together in front of her. She wore a silver ring with a blue stone in it on her left middle finger, over the material of her glove. “You think that is what you want, Simon. You think Raphael is doing you a favor in leaving you alone, as you put it.
In reality he is exiling you. Right now you think you do not need others of your kind.
You are content with the friends you have—humans and Shadowhunters. You are content to hide bottles of blood in your room and lie to your mother about what you are.”
“How did you—”
She went on, ignoring him. “But what about in ten years, when you are supposed to be twenty-six? In twenty years?
Thirty? Do you think no one will notice that as they age and change, you do not?”
Simon said nothing. He didn’t want to admit he hadn’t thought ahead that far. That he didn’t want to think ahead that far.
“Raphael has taught you that other vampires are poison to you. But it does not need to be that way. Eternity is a long time to spend alone, without others of your kind. Others who understand. You befriend Shadowhunters, but you can never be of them. You will always be other and outside. With us you could belong.” As she leaned forward, white light sparked off her ring, stinging Simon’s eyes. “We have thousands of years of knowledge we could share with you, Simon. You could learn how to keep your secret; how to eat and drink, how to speak the name of God.
Raphael has cruelly hidden this information from you, even led you to believe it doesn’t exist. It does. I can help you.”
“If I help you first,” Simon said.
She smiled, and her teeth were white and sharp. “We will help each other.”
Simon leaned back. The iron chair was hard and uncomfortable, and he suddenly felt tired. Looking down at his hands, he could see that the veins had darkened, spidering across the backs of his knuckles. He needed blood.
He needed to talk to Clary. He needed time to think.
“I’ve shocked you,” she said. “I know. It is a great deal to take in. I would be happy to give you as much time as you needed to make up your mind about this, and about me.
But we don’t have much time, Simon. While I remain in this city, I am in danger from Raphael and his cohorts.”
“Cohorts?” Despite everything, Simon grinned slightly.
Camille seemed baffled. “Yes?”
“Well, it’s just . . . ‘Cohorts.’ It’s like saying ‘evildoers’ or ‘minions.’” She stared at him blankly. Simon sighed.
“Sorry. You probably haven’t seen as many bad movies as I have.”