The City of Fallen Angels (Mortal Instruments 4)(94)

She hopped over a narrow trench, and up a row of cracked stone steps. Simon followed.

The steps led to a set of glass doors, propped open. Through the doors was an ornate marble lobby. A massive unlit chandelier hung from the ceiling, though there was no light to spark off its pendant crystals. It would have been too dark in the room for a human to see at all. There was a marble desk for a doorman to sit at, a green chaise longue beneath a gilt-edged mirror, and banks of elevators on either side of the room.

Maureen hit the button for the elevator, and to Simon’s surprise, it lit.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

The elevator pinged, and Maureen stepped in, Simon behind her. The elevator was paneled in gold and red, with frosted glass mirrors on each of the walls. “Up.” She hit the button for the roof and giggled. “Up to Heaven,” she said, and the doors closed.

“I can’t find Simon.”

Isabelle, who had been leaning against a pillar in the Ironworks and trying not to brood, looked up to see Jordan looming over her. He really was most unreasonably tall, she thought. He had to be at least six foot two. She had thought he was very attractive the first time she’d seen him, with his tousled dark hair and greenish eyes, but now that she knew he was Maia’s ex, she had moved him firmly into the mental space she reserved for boys who were off-limits.



“Well, I haven’t seen him,” she said. “I thought you were supposed to be his keeper.”

“He told me he was going to be right back. That was forty minutes ago. I figured he was going to the bathroom.”

“What kind of guardian are you? Shouldn’t you have gone to the bathroom with him?”

Isabelle demanded.

Jordan looked horrified. “Dudes,” he said, “do not follow other dudes to the bathroom.”

Isabelle sighed. “Latent homosexual panic will do you in every time,” she said. “Come on. Let’s look for him.”

They circled the party, moving in and out among the guests. Alec was sulking alone at a table, playing with an empty champagne glass. “No, I haven’t seen him,” he said in response to their question. “Though admittedly I haven’t been looking.”

“Well, you can search along with us,” said Isabelle. “It’ll give you something to do besides look miserable.”

Alec shrugged and joined them. They decided to split up and fan out across the party.

Alec headed upstairs to search the catwalks and the second level. Jordan went outside to check the terraces and the entryway. Isabelle took the party area. She was just wondering whether glancing under the tables would actually be ridiculous, when Maia came up behind her. “Everything all right?” she inquired. She glanced up toward Alec, and then in the direction Jordan had gone. “I know a searching formation when I see one. What are you guys looking for? Is there trouble?”

Isabelle filled her in on the Simon situation.

“I just talked to him about half an hour ago.”

“So did Jordan, but he’s gone now. And since people have been trying to kill him lately .

. .”

Maia set her glass down on the table. “I’ll help you look.”

“You don’t have to. I know you’re not feeling super-fond of Simon right now—”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to help out if he’s in trouble,” Maia said, as if Isabelle were being ridiculous.

“Wasn’t Jordan supposed to be watching him?”

Isabelle threw up her hands. “Yeah, but apparently dudes don’t follow other dudes to the bathroom or something.

He wasn’t making a lot of sense.”

“Guys never do,” Maia said, and followed her. They glided in and out through the crowd, though Isabelle was already pretty sure they weren’t going to find Simon. She had a small cold spot in the middle of her stomach that was growing bigger and colder. By the time they’d all convened back at their original table, she felt as if she’d swallowed a glass of ice water.

“He isn’t here,” she said.

Jordan swore, then stared guiltily at Maia. “Sorry.”

“I’ve heard worse,” she said. “So what’s the next step? Anyone tried calling him?”

“Straight to voice mail,” Jordan said.

“Any idea where he might have gone?” asked Alec.

“Best-case scenario, maybe back to the apartment,” said Jordan. “Worst, those people who’ve been after him finally got him.”

“People who what?” Alec looked bewildered; while Isabelle had told Maia Simon’s story, she hadn’t had a chance to fill her brother in yet.

“I’m going to head back to the apartment and look for him,” said Jordan. “If he’s there, great. If not, that’s still where I should start. They know where he lives; they’ve been sending us messages there. Maybe there’ll be a message.”

He didn’t sound too hopeful.

Isabelle made a split-second decision. “I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes, Ido. Itold Simonhe should come here tonight; I’m responsible.Besides, I’m having a crap time at this party anyway.”

“Yeah,” Alec said, looking relieved at the prospect of getting out of there. “Me too.