The City of Fallen Angels (Mortal Instruments 4)(22)

“Whoa,” he said, drawing back, his lips curving into a smile. “Sorry. You probably weren’t expecting that.”

“It was a nice surprise.” Her voice sounded low and throaty to her own ears. “What were you dreaming about?”

“You.” He twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. “I always dream about you.”

Still on his lap, her legs straddling his, Clary said, “Oh, yeah? Because I thought you were having a nightmare.”

He tipped his head back to look at her. “Sometimes Idream you’re gone,” he said. “Ikeep wondering whenyou’ll figure out how much better you could do and leave me.”

She touched his face with her fingertips, delicately running them over the planes of his cheekbones, down to the curve of his mouth. Jace never said things like that to anyone else but her. Alec and Isabelle knew, from living with him and loving him, that underneath the protective armor of humor and pretended arrogance, the ragged shards of memory and childhood still tore at him. But she was the only one he said the words out loud to. She shook her head; her hair fell forward across her forehead, and she pushed it away impatiently. “I wish I could say things the way you do,” she said. “Everything you say, the words you choose, they’re so perfect. You always find the right quote, or the right thing to say to make me believe you love me. If I can’t convince you that I’ll never leave you—”

He caught her hand in his. “Just say it again.”

“I’ll never leave you,” she said.

“No matter what happens, what I do?”



“I’d never give up on you,” she said. “Never. What I feel about you—” She stumbled over the words. “It’s the most important thing I’ve ever felt.”

Dammit, she thought. That sounded completely stupid. But Jace didn’t seem to think so; he smiled wistfully and said, “‘L’amor che move il sole e l’altre stelle.’”

“Is that Latin?”

“Italian,” he said. “Dante.”

She ran her fingertips over his lips, and he shivered. “I don’t speak Italian,” she said, very softly.

“It means,” he said, “that love is the most powerful force in the world. That love can do anything.”

She drew her hand out of his, aware as she did that he was watching her through half-lidded eyes. She locked both hands around the back of his neck, leaned forward, and touched his lips with hers—not a kiss this time, just a brush of lips against each other. It was enough; she felt his pulse speed up, and he leaned forward, trying to capture her mouth with his, but she shook her head, shaking her hair around them like a curtain that would hide them from the eyes of everyone else in the park. “If you’re tired, we could go back to the Institute,” she said in a half whisper. “Take a nap. We haven’t slept together in the same bed since—since Idris.”

Their gazes locked, and she knew he was remembering the same thing she was. The pale light filtering in through the window of Amatis’s small spare bedroom, the desperation in his voice. I just want to lie down with you and wake up with you, just once, just once ever in my life. That whole night, lying side by side, only their hands touching.

They had touched much more since that night, but had never spent the night together. He knew she was offering him more than a nap in one of the Institute’s unused bedrooms, too. She was sure he could see it in her eyes— even if she herself wasn’t exactly sure how much she was offering. But it didn’t matter. Jace would never ask her for anything she didn’t want to give. wake up with you, just once, just once ever in my life. That whole night, lying side by side, only their hands touching.

They had touched much more since that night, but had never spent the night together. He knew she was offering him more than a nap in one of the Institute’s unused bedrooms, too. She was sure he could see it in her eyes— even if she herself wasn’t exactly sure how much she was offering. But it didn’t matter. Jace would never ask her for anything she didn’t want to give.

“I want to.” The heat she saw in his eyes, the ragged edge to his voice, told her he wasn’t lying. “But—we can’t.”

He took her wrists firmly, and drew them down, holding their hands between them, making a barrier.

Clary’s eyes widened. “Why not?”



He took a deep breath. “We came here to train, and we should train. If we just spend all the time we’re supposed to be training making out instead, they’ll quit letting me help train you at all.”

“Aren’t they supposed to be hiring someone else to train me full-time anyway?”

“Yes,” he said, getting up and pulling her to her feet along with him, “and I’m worried that if you get into the habit of making out with your instructors, you’ll wind up making out with him, too.”

“Don’t be sexist. They could find me a female instructor.”

“In that case you have my permission to make out with her, as long as I can watch.”

“Nice.” Clary grinned, bending down to fold up the blanket they’d brought to sit on.

“You’re just worried they’ll hire a male instructor and he’ll be hotter than you.”