The City of Fallen Angels (Mortal Instruments 4)(42)

“I don’t,” said Kyle. “I’m not too fond of their kind, though.” He jabbed a finger at Jace.

“They think they’re better than everyone else.”

“No,” said Jace. “I think I’m better than everyone else. An opinion that has been backed up with ample evidence.”

Kyle looked at Simon. “Does he always talk like this?”

“Yes.”

“Does anything shut him up? Other than getting the crap beaten out of him, of course.”

Jace moved away from the window. “I would love for you to try.”

Simon stepped between them. “I’m not going to let you fight with each other.”

“And what are you going to do about it if . . . Oh.” Jace’s gaze trailed up to Simon’s forehead, and he grinned reluctantly. “So basically you’re threatening to turn me into something you can sprinkle on popcorn if I don’t do what you say?”



Kyle looked baffled. “What are you—”

“I just think you two should talk,” Simon interrupted. “So Kyle’s a werewolf. I’m a vampire. And you’re not exactly the boy next door either,” he added to Jace. “I say we figure out what’s going on and proceed from there.”

“Your trusting idiocy knows no bounds,” Jace said, but he sat down on the windowsill, crossing his arms. After a moment Kyle sat down too, on the futon couch. They both glared at each other. Still, Simon thought. Progress.

“Fine,” Kyle said. “I’m a werewolf. I’m not part of a pack, but I do have an alliance.

Have you heard of the Praetor Lupus?”

“I’ve heard of lupus,” said Simon. “Isn’t it a kind of disease?”

Jace gave him a withering look. “‘Lupus’ means ‘wolf,’” he explained. “And the praetorians were an elite Roman military force. So I guess the translation is ‘Wolf Guardians.’” He shrugged. “I’ve run across mentions of them, but they’re a pretty secretive organization.”

“And the Shadowhunters aren’t?” said Kyle.

“We have good reasons.”

“So do we.” Kyle leaned forward. The muscles in his arms flexed as he propped his elbows on his knees. “There are two kinds of werewolves,” he explained. “The kind that are born werewolves, with werewolf parents, and the kind that get infected with lycanthropy through a bite.” Simon looked at him in surprise. He wouldn’t have thought Kyle, slacker-stoner bike messenger, would have known the word “lycanthropy,” much less how to pronounce it.

But this was a very different Kyle—focused, intent, and direct. “For those of us who are turned by a bite, those first few years are key. The demon strain that causes lycanthropy causes a whole raft of other changes—waves of uncontrollable aggression, inability to control rage, suicidal anger and despair. The pack can help with that, but a lot of the newly infected aren’t lucky enough to fall in with a pack. They’re on their own, trying to deal with all this overwhelming stuff, and a lot of them turn violent—against others or against themselves. There’s a high suicide rate and a high rate of domestic violence.” He looked at Simon. “The same goes for vampires, except it can be even worse. An orphaned fledgling has literally no idea what’s happened to it. With no guidance, it doesn’t know how to feed safely, or even to stay out of sunlight. That’s where we come in.”

“And do what?” Simon asked.

“We track down ‘orphaned’ Downworlders—vampires and werewolves who’ve just been Turned and don’t know what they are yet. Sometimes even warlocks—some of them don’t realize what they are for years. We intervene, try to get them into a pack or a clan, try to help them control their powers.”

“Good Samaritans, aren’t you.” Jace’s eyes glittered.



“We are, actually.” Kyle sounded like he was trying to keep his voice neutral. “We intervene before the new Downworlder can get violent and hurt themselves or other people. I know what would have happened to me if it hadn’t been for the Guard. I’ve done bad things. Really bad.”

“How bad?” asked Jace. “Illegal bad?”

“Shut up, Jace,” said Simon. “You’re off duty, okay? Stop being a Shadowhunter for a second.” He turned to Kyle.

“So how did you end up auditioning for my crappy band, then?”

“I didn’t realize you knew it was crappy.”

“Just answer the question.”

“We got a report of a new vampire—a Daylighter, living on his own, not with a clan.

Your secret’s not as secret as you think. Fledgling vampires without a clan to help them can be very dangerous. I got dispatched to keep an eye on you.”

“So, what you’re saying,” said Simon, “is not just that you don’t want me to move out now that I know you’re a werewolf, but that you won’t let me move out?”

“Right,” said Kyle. “I mean, you can move out, but I’ll come with you.”

“That’s not necessary,” said Jace. “I can keep a perfectly good eye on Simon, thank you.

He’s my neophyte Downworlder to mock and boss around, not yours.”