To Her You're Jocelyn's Daughter.

Faeries Are Fallen Angels," Said Dorothea, "cast Down Out Of Heaven For Their Pride." "that's The Legend," Jace Said. "it's Also Said That They're The Offspring Of Demons And Angels, Which Always Seemed More Likely To Me. Good And Evil, Mixing Together. Faeries Are As Beautiful As Angels Are Supposed To Be, But They Have A Lot Of Mischief And Cruelty In Them. And You'll Notice Most Of Them Avoid Midday Sunlight—" "for The Devil Has No Power," Said Dorothea Softly, As If She Were Reciting An Old Rhyme, "except In The Dark.

If You Lay One Hand On Simon, Vampire, I'll Have You Chopped Up Into Tiny Pieces And Fed To My Cat. Understand?

As Luke Knelt Down Beside His Corpse, Clary Couldn’t Help But Remember What He Had Said About Having Loved Valentine Once, About Having Been His Closest Friend. Luke, She Thought With A Pang. Surely He Couldn’t Be Sad — Or Even Grieved? But Then Again, Perhaps Everyone Should Have Someone To Grieve For Them, And There Was No One Else To Grieve For Valentine.

His Eyes Softened. "but It Doesn't Change What We Are To Each Other. It's Like There's Always Been A Piece Of My Soul Missing, And It's Inside You, Clary. I Know I Told You Once That Whether God Exists Or Not, We're On Our Own. But When I'm With You, I'm Not.

How Had It Happened, Simon Thought, That He Was Bound To These People—to People Who Thought Of Him As Nothing More Than A Downworlder, Half Human At Best?