City of Lost Souls

delighting in the fact that she didn’t.

She glanced sideways at Jace. He knew perfectly well that Sebastian had kissed her. Sebastian had taunted him with it, and Jace had nearly killed him. But he didn’t look angry now; he looked amused, and mildly annoyed to have been interrupted.

“We should do it again,” Sebastian said, examining his nails. “Have some family time.”

“I don’t care what you think. You’re not my brother,” Clary said. “You’re a murderer.”

“I really don’t see how those things cancel each other out,” said Sebastian. “It’s not like they did in the case of dear old Dad.” His gaze drifted lazily back to Jace. “Normally I’d hate to get in the way of a friend’s love life, but I really don’t care for standing out here in this hallway indefinitely. Especially since I can’t turn on any lights. It’s boring.”

Jace sat up, tugging his shirt down. “Give us five minutes.”

Sebastian sighed an exaggerated sigh and swung the door shut. Clary stared at Jace. “What the f—”

“Language, Fray.” Jace’s eyes danced. “Relax.”

Clary jabbed her hand toward the door. “You heard what he said. About that day he kissed me. He knew I was his sister. Jace—”

Something flashed in his eyes, darkening their gold, but when he spoke again, it was as if her words had hit a Teflon surface and bounced off, making no impression.

She drew back from him. “Jace, aren’t you listening to anything I’m saying?”

“Look, I understand if you’re uncomfortable with your brother waiting outside in the hallway. I wasn’t planning on kissing you.” He grinned in a way that at another time she would have found adorable. “It just seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Clary scrambled out of the bed, staring down at him. She reached for the robe that hung on the post of her bed and wrapped it around herself. Jace watched, making no move to stop her, though his eyes shone in the dark. “I–I don’t even understand. First you disappear, and now you come back with him, acting like I’m not even supposed to notice or care or remember—”

“I told you,” he said. “I had to be sure of you. I didn’t want to put you in the position of knowing where I was while the Clave was still investigating you. I thought it would be hard for you—”

“Hard for me?” She was almost breathless with rage. “Tests are hard. Obstacle courses are hard. You disappearing like that practically killed me, Jace. And what do you think you’ve done to Alec? Isabelle? Maryse? Do you know what it’s been like? Can you imagine? Not knowing, the searching—”

That odd look passed over his face again, as if he were hearing her but not hearing her at the same time. “Oh, yes, I was going to ask.” He smiled like an angel. “Is everyone looking for me?”

“Is everyone—” She shook her head, pulling the robe closer. Suddenly she wanted to be covered up in front of him, in front of all that familiarity and beauty and that lovely predatory smile that said he was willing to do whatever with her, to her, no matter who was waiting in the hall.

“I was hoping they’d put up flyers like they do for lost cats,” he said. “Missing, one stunningly attractive teenage boy. Answers to ‘Jace,’ or ‘Hot Stuff.’”

“You did not just say that.”

“You don’t like ‘Hot Stuff’? You think ‘Sweet Cheeks’ might be better? ‘Love Crumpet’? Really, that last one’s stretching it a bit. Though, technically, my family is British—”

“Shut up,” she said savagely. “And get out.”

“I…” He looked taken aback, and she remembered how surprised he’d been outside the Manor, when she’d pushed him away. “All right, fine. I’ll be serious. Clarissa, I’m here because I want you to come with me.”

“Come where with you?”

“Come with me,” he said, and then hesitated, “and Sebastian. And I’ll explain everything.”

For a moment she was frozen, her eyes locked on his. Silvery moonlight outlined the curves of his mouth, the shape of his cheekbones, the shadow of his lashes, the arch of his throat. “The last time I ‘came with you somewhere,’ I wound up knocked unconscious and dragged into the middle of a black magic ceremony.”

“That wasn’t me. That was Lilith.”

“The Jace Lightwood I know wouldn’t be in the same room with Jonathan Morgenstern without killing him.”

“I think you’ll find that would be self-defeating,” Jace said lightly, shoving his feet into his boots. “We are bound, he and I. Cut him and I bleed.”

“Bound? What do you mean, bound?”

He tossed his light hair back, ignoring her question. “This is bigger than you understand, Clary. He has a plan. He’s willing to work, to sacrifice. If you’d give me a chance to explain—”

“He killed Max, Jace,” she said. “Your little brother.”

He flinched, and for a moment of wild hope she thought she’d broken through to him — but his expression smoothed over like a wrinkled sheet pulled tight. “That was — it was an accident. Besides, Sebastian’s just as much my brother.”

“No.” Clary shook her head. “He’s not your brother. He’s mine. God knows, I wish it weren’t true. He should never have been born—”

“How can you say that?” Jace demanded. He swung his legs out of the bed. “Have you ever considered that maybe things aren’t so black and white as you think?” He bent over to grab his weapons belt and buckle it on. “There was a war, Clary, and people got hurt, but — things were different then. Now I know Sebastian would never harm anyone I loved intentionally. He’s serving a greater cause. Sometimes there’s collateral damage—”

“Did you just call your own brother collateral damage?” Her voice rose in an incredulous half shout. She felt as if she could barely breathe.

“Clary, you’re not listening. This is important—”

“Like what Valentine thought he was doing was important?”

“Valentine was wrong,” he said. “He was right that the Clave was corrupt but wrong about how to go about fixing things. But Sebastian is right. If you’d just hear us out—”

“‘Us,’” she said. “God. Jace…” He was staring at her from the bed, and even as she felt her heart breaking, her mind was racing, trying to remember where she had left her stele, wondering if she could get to the X-Acto knife in the drawer of her nightstand. Wondering if she could bring herself to use it if she did.

“Clary?” Jace tilted his head to the side, studying her face. “You do — you still love me, don’t you?”

“I love Jace Lightwood,” she said. “I don’t know who you are.”

His face changed, but before he could speak, a scream shattered the silence. A scream, and the sound of breaking glass.

Clary knew the voice instantly. It was her mother.

Without another glance at Jace, she yanked the bedroom door open and bolted down the hallway, into the living room. The living room in Luke’s house was large, divided from the kitchen by a long counter. Jocelyn, in yoga pants and a frayed T-shirt, her hair pulled back in a messy bun, stood by the counter. She had clearly come into the kitchen for something to drink. A glass lay shattered at her feet, the water soaking into the gray carpeting.

All the color had drained from her face, leaving her as pale as bleached sand. She was staring across the room, and even before Clary turned her head, she knew what her mother was looking at.

Her son.

Sebastian was leaning against the living room wall, near the door, with no expression on his angular face. He lowered his eyelids and looked at Jocelyn through his lashes. Something about his posture, the look of him, could have stepped out of Hodge’s photograph of Valentine at seventeen years old.

“Jonathan,” Jocelyn whispered. Clary stood frozen, even as Jace burst out of the hallway, took in the scene in front of him in one moment, and came to a halt. His left hand was at his weapons belt; his slim fingers were inches from the hilt of one of his daggers, but Clary knew it would take him less than seconds to free it.

“I go by ‘Sebastian’ now,” said Clary’s brother. “I concluded that I wasn’t interested in keeping the name you and my father gave me. Both of you betrayed me, and I would prefer as little association with you as possible.”

Water spread out from the pool of broken glass at Jocelyn’s feet in a dark ring. She took a step forward, her eyes searching, running up and down Sebastian’s face. “I thought you were dead,” she whispered.