 Cassandra Clare

When fifteen-year-old Clary Fray heads out to the Pandemonium Club in New York City, she hardly expects to witness a murder― much less a murder committed by three teenagers covered with strange tattoos and brandishing bizarre weapons. Then the body disappears into thin air. It's hard to call the police when the murderers are invisible to everyone else and when there is nothing―not even a smear of blood―to show that a boy has died. Or was he a boy?

This is Clary's first meeting with the Shadowhunters, warriors dedicated to ridding the earth of demons. It's also her first encounter with Jace, a Shadowhunter who looks a little like an angel and acts a lot like a jerk. Within twenty-four hours Clary is pulled into Jace's world with a vengeance when her mother disappears and Clary herself is attacked by a demon. But why would demons be interested in ordinary mundanes like Clary and her mother? And how did Clary suddenly get the Sight? The Shadowhunters would like to know...

City of Bones (The Mortal Instruments #1)

Cynthia Langley

Emerson Clute

vittoria

Keira 💫

“Come on now.” The tawny-eyed boy held up his hands, and his dark sleeves slipped down, showing the runes inked all over his wrists, the backs of his hands, his palms. “You know what I am.”

Far back inside his skull, the shackled boy’s second set of teeth began to grind.

The other boy grinned all over his face. “Got you,” he said.

Help, this is so funny. I love this Jace so much. 

“You’re driveling,” Clary observed.

“I’m not,” said Jace, with great dignity.

“Yes, you are,” said Alec, rather unexpectedly. “Look, we don’t do magic, okay?” he added, not looking at Clary. “That’s all you need to know about it.”

Clary wanted to snap at him, but restrained herself. Alec already didn’t seem to like her; there was no point in aggravating his hostility. She turned to Jace. “Hodge said I can go home.”

Jace nearly dropped the seraph blade he was holding. “He said what?”

“To look through my mother’s things,” she amended. “If you go with me.”

“Jace,” Alec exhaled, but Jace ignored him.

“If you really want to prove that my mom or dad was a Shadowhunter, we should look through my mom’s things. What’s left of them.”

“Down the rabbit hole.” Jace grinned crookedly. “Good idea. If we go right now, we should have another three, four hours of daylight.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Alec asked, as Clary and Jace moved toward the door. Clary glanced back at him. He was half-out of the chair, eyes expectant.

“No.” Jace didn’t turn around. “That’s all right. Clary and I can handle this on our own.”

The look Alec shot Clary was as sour as poison. She was glad when the door shut behind her.

There must have been something in her voice, because he turned to look at her. Her hand cracked across his face, a slap that rocked him back on his heels. He put his hand to his cheek, more in surprise than pain. “What the hell was that for?”

“The other ten percent,” she said, and they rode the rest of the way down to the street in silence.

He didn’t have Alec’s delicate cameo looks, but Jace’s face was more interesting. In daylight his eyes were the color of golden syrup and were … looking right at her. He cocked an eyebrow. “Can I help you with something?”

Clary turned instant traitor against her gender. “Those girls on the other side of the car are staring at you.”

Jace assumed an air of mellow gratification. “Of course they are,” he said. “I am stunningly attractive.”

“Haven’t you ever heard that modesty is an attractive trait?”

“Only from ugly people,” Jace confided. “The meek may inherit the earth, but at the moment it belongs to the conceited. Like me.” He winked at the girls, who giggled and hid behind their hair.

Clary sighed. “How come they can see you?”

“Glamours are a pain to use. Sometimes we don’t bother.”

The incident with the girls on the train did seem to put him in a better mood. When they left the station and headed up the hill to Clary’s apartment, he took one of the seraph blades out of his pocket and started flipping it back and forth between his fingers and across his knuckles, humming to himself.

“Do you have to do that?” Clary asked. “It’s annoying.”

Jace hummed louder. It was a loud, tuneful sort of hum, somewhere between “Happy Birthday” and “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

“I’m sorry I smacked you,” she said.

He stopped humming. “Just be glad you hit me and not Alec. He would have hit you back.”

“He seems to be itching for the chance,” Clary said, kicking an empty soda can out of her path.

I think I might have to revisit my thoughts on Jace. 

“You hate the Silent Brothers,” protested Isabelle.

“I don’t hate them,” said Jace candidly. “I’m afraid of them. It’s not the same thing.”

“I thought you said they were librarians,” said Clary.

Simon whistled. “Those must be some killer late fees.”

Clary held the cloth up, letting it unfold. “It looks awfully small.”

“It’s stretchy,” said Isabelle. “Now go put it on.”

Hastily, Clary retreated to the small bathroom, which was painted bright blue. She wriggled the dress on over her head—it was tight, with tiny spaghetti straps. Trying not to inhale too deeply, she returned to the bedroom, where Isabelle was sitting on the bed, sliding a set of jeweled toe rings onto her sandaled feet. “You’re so lucky to have such a flat chest,” Isabelle said. “I could never wear that without a bra.”

“It’s not short. It’s fine,” Isabelle said, toeing around under the bed. She kicked out a pair of boots and some black fishnet tights. “Here, you can wear these with it. They’ll make you look taller.”

“Right, because I’m flat-chested and a midget.” Clary tugged the hem of the dress down. It just brushed the tops of her thighs. She hardly ever wore skirts, much less short ones, so seeing this much of her own legs was alarming. “If it’s this short on me, how short must it be on you?” she mused aloud to Isabelle.

Isabelle grinned. “On me it’s a shirt.”

Help, I don’t know what to feel reading this 😭😭

“In future, Clarissa,” he said, “it might be wise to mention that you already have a man in your bed, to avoid such tedious situations.”

“You invited him into bed?” Simon demanded, looking shaken.

“Ridiculous, isn’t it?” said Jace. “We would never have all fit.”

“I didn’t invite him into bed,” Clary snapped. “We were just kissing.”

“Just kissing?” Jace’s tone mocked her with its false hurt. “How swiftly you dismiss our love.”

She saw the bright malice in his eyes and trailed off. There was no point. Her stomach felt suddenly heavy. “Simon, it’s late,” she said tiredly. “I’m sorry we woke you up.”

“So am I.” He stalked back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Jace’s smile was as bland as buttered toast. “Go on, go after him. Pat his head and tell him he’s still your super special little guy. Isn’t that what you want to do?”

“Stop it,” she said. “Stop being like that.”

“If you’re angry, just say it. Don’t act like nothing ever touches you. It’s like you never feel anything at all.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you kissed me,” he said.

She looked at him incredulously. “I kissed you?”

He looked at her with glittering malice. “Don’t worry,” he said, “it wasn’t that memorable for me, either.”

City of Bones (The Mortal Instruments #1) quotes

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