City of Bones (The Mortal Instruments, #1)(57)

“Don’t order any of the faerie food,” said Jace, looking at her over the top of his menu. “It tends to make humans a little crazy. One minute you’re munching a faerie plum, the next minute you’re running naked down Madison Avenue with antlers on your head. Not,” he added hastily, “that this has ever happened to me.”

Alec laughed. “Do you remember—” he began, and launched into a story that contained so many mysterious names and proper nouns that Clary didn’t even bother trying to follow it. She was looking at Alec instead, watching him as he talked to Jace. There was a kinetic, almost feverish energy to him that hadn’t been there before. Something about Jace sharpened him, brought him into focus. If she were going to draw them together, she thought, she would make Jace a little blurry, while Alec stood out, all sharp, clear planes and angles.

Jace was looking down as Alec spoke, smiling a little and tapping his water glass with a fingernail. She sensed he was thinking of other things. She felt a sudden flash of sympathy for Alec. Jace couldn’t be an easy person to care about. I was laughing at you because declarations of love amuse me, especially when unrequited.

Jace looked up as the waitress passed. “Are we ever going to get any coffee?” he said aloud, interrupting Alec midsentence.

Alec subsided, his energy fading. “I …”

Clary spoke up hastily. “What’s all the raw meat for?” she asked, indicating the third page of her menu.

“Werewolves,” said Jace. “Though I don’t mind a bloody steak myself every once in a while.” He reached across the table and flipped Clary’s menu over. “Human food is on the back.”

She perused the perfectly ordinary menu selections with a feeling of stupefaction. It was all too much. “They have smoothies here?”

“There’s this apricot-plum smoothie with wildflower honey that’s simply divine,” said Isabelle, who had appeared with Simon at her side. “Shove over,” she said to Clary, who scooted so close to the wall that she could feel the cold bricks pressing into her arm. Simon, sliding in next to Isabelle, offered her a half-embarrassed smile that she didn’t return. “You should have one.”

Clary wasn’t sure if Isabelle was talking to her or to Simon, so she said nothing. Isabelle’s hair tickled her face, smelling of some kind of vanilla perfume. Clary fought the urge to sneeze. She hated vanilla perfume. She’d never understood why some girls felt the need to smell like dessert.

“So how did it go at the Bone City?” Isabelle asked, flipping her menu open. “Did you find out what’s in Clary’s head?”

“We got a name,” said Jace. “Magnus—”

“Shut up,” Alec hissed, thwacking Jace with his closed menu.

Jace looked injured. “Jesus.” He rubbed his arm. “What’s your problem?”

“This place is full of Downworlders. You know that. I think you should try to keep the details of our investigation secret.”

“Investigation?” Isabelle laughed. “Now we’re detectives? Maybe we should all have code names.”

“Good idea,” said Jace. “I shall be Baron Hotschaft Von Hugenstein.”

Alec spit his water back into his glass. At that moment the waitress arrived to take their order. Up close she was still a pretty blond girl, but her eyes were unnerving—entirely blue, with no white or pupil at all. She smiled with sharp little teeth. “Know what you’re having?”

Jace grinned. “The usual,” he said, and got a smile from the waitress in return.

“Me too,” Alec chimed in, though he didn’t get the smile. Isabelle fastidiously ordered a fruit smoothie, Simon asked for coffee, and Clary, after a moment’s hesitation, chose a large coffee and coconut pancakes. The waitress winked a blue eye at her and flounced off.

“Is she an ifrit too?” Clary asked, watching her go.

“Kaelie? No. Part fey, I think,” said Jace.

“She’s got nixie eyes,” said Isabelle thoughtfully.

“You really don’t know what she is?” asked Simon.

Jace shook his head. “I respect her privacy.” He nudged Alec. “Hey, let me out for a second.”

Scowling, Alec moved aside. Clary watched Jace as he strode over to Kaelie, who was leaning against the bar, talking to the cook through the pass-through to the kitchen. All Clary could see of the cook was a bent head in a white chef’s hat. Tall furry ears poked through holes cut into either side of the hat.

Kaelie turned to smile at Jace, who put an arm around her. She snuggled in. Clary wondered if this was what Jace meant by respecting her privacy.

Isabelle rolled her eyes. “He really shouldn’t tease the waitstaff like that.”

Alec looked at her. “You don’t think he means it? That he likes her, I mean.”

Isabelle shrugged. “She’s a Downworlder,” she said, as if that explained everything.

“I don’t get it,” said Clary.

Isabelle glanced at her without interest. “Get what?”

“This whole Downworlder thing. You don’t hunt them, because they aren’t exactly demons, but they’re not exactly people, either. Vampires kill; they drink blood—”

“Only rogue vampires drink human blood from living people,” interjected Alec. “And those, we’re allowed to kill.”