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City of Ashes (The Mortal Instruments Book 2) by [Cassandra Clare]

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Cassandra Clare

City of Ashes (The Mortal Instruments Book 2) Kindle Edition

by Cassandra Clare (Author) Format: Kindle Edition

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Book 2 of 6: The Mortal Instruments

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Is love worth betraying everything? Plunge into the second adventure in the internationally bestselling Mortal Instruments series and “prepare to be hooked” (Entertainment Weekly).

Clary Fray just wishes that her life would go back to normal. But what's normal when you're a demon-slaying Shadowhunter, your mother is in a magically induced coma, and you can suddenly see Downworlders like werewolves, vampires, and faeries? If Clary left the world of the Shadowhunters behind, it would mean more time with her best friend, Simon, who's becoming more than a friend. But the Shadowhunting world isn't ready to let her go -- especially her handsome, infuriating, newfound brother, Jace. And Clary's only chance to help her mother is to track down rogue Shadowhunter Valentine, who is probably insane, certainly evil—and also her father.

To complicate matters, someone in New York City is murdering Downworlder children. Is Valentine behind the killings—and if he is, what is he trying to do? When the second of the Mortal Instruments, the Soul-Sword, is stolen, the terrifying Inquisitor arrives to investigate and zooms right in on Jace. How can Clary stop Valentine if Jace is willing to betray everything he believes in to help their father?

In this breathtaking sequel to City of Bones, Cassandra Clare lures her readers back into the dark grip of New York City's Downworld, where love is never safe and power becomes the deadliest temptation.

Book 2 of 6

The Mortal Instruments
Print length

500 pages
Language

English
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Margaret K. McElderry Books
Publication date

March 14 2009
Reading age

14 years and up
Grade level

9 - 12
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14667 KB
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“If you really love something, you never try to keep it the way it is forever. You have to let it be free to change.”
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“Mostly extinct,” he said, his voice trembling with rage, “is NOT EXTINCT ENOUGH.”
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“No, I’m just a very naughty boy. I do all sorts of bad things. I kick kittens. I make rude gestures at nuns.”
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From the Publisher

The Dark Artifices; The Eldest Curses; The Last Hours; Cassandra Clare; Cassie Clare

Product description

About the Author

Cassandra Clare is the author of the New York Times, USA Today, Wall Street Journal, and Publishers Weekly bestselling Mortal Instruments series and the Infernal Devices trilogy, and she is coauthor of the Bane Chronicles with Sarah Rees Brennan and Maureen Johnson. She also wrote The Shadowhunter’s Codex with her husband, Joshua Lewis. Her books have more than thirty-five million copies in print worldwide and have been translated into more than thirty-five languages.

--This text refers to the audioCD edition.

Review

"A gorgeous fantasty that's so good, it's dangerous."--Holly Black --This text refers to the paperback edition.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Chapter 1: Valentine’s Arrow

1 VALENTINE’S ARROW

“Are you still mad?”

Alec, leaning against the wall of the elevator, glared across the small space at Jace. “I’m not mad.”

“Oh, yes you are.” Jace gestured accusingly at his stepbrother, then yelped as pain shot up his arm. Every part of him hurt from the thumping he’d taken that afternoon when he’d dropped three floors through rotted wood onto a pile of scrap metal. Even his fingers were bruised. Alec, who’d only recently put away the crutches he’d had to use after his fight with Abbadon, didn’t look much better than Jace felt. His clothes were covered in mud and his hair hung down in lank, sweaty strips. There was a long cut down the side of his cheek.

“I am not,” Alec said, through his teeth. “Just because you said dragon demons were extinct—”

“I said mostly extinct.”

Alec jabbed a finger toward him. “Mostly extinct,” he said, his voice trembling with rage, “is NOT EXTINCT ENOUGH.”

“I see,” said Jace. “I’ll just have them change the entry in the demonology textbook from ‘almost extinct’ to ‘not extinct enough for Alec. He prefers his monsters really, really extinct.’ Will that make you happy?”

“Boys, boys,” said Isabelle, who’d been examining her face in the elevator’s mirrored wall. “Don’t fight.” She turned away from the glass with a sunny smile. “All right, so it was a little more action than we were expecting, but I thought it was fun.”

Alec looked at her and shook his head. “How do you manage never to get mud on you?”

Isabelle shrugged philosophically. “I’m pure at heart. It repels the dirt.”

Jace snorted so loudly that she turned on him with a frown. He wiggled his mud-caked fingers at her. His nails were black crescents. “Filthy inside and out.”

Isabelle was about to reply when the elevator ground to a halt with the sound of screeching brakes. “Time to get this thing fixed,” she said, yanking the door open. Jace followed her out into the entryway, already looking forward to shucking his armor and weapons and stepping into a hot shower. He’d convinced his siblings to come hunting with him despite the fact that neither of them was entirely comfortable going out on their own now that Hodge wasn’t there to give them instructions. But Jace had wanted the oblivion of fighting, the harsh diversion of killing, and the distraction of injuries. And knowing he wanted it, they’d gone along with it, crawling through filthy deserted subway tunnels until they’d found the Draconidae demon and killed it. The three of them working together in perfect unison, the way they always had. Like family.

He unzipped his jacket and slung it over one of the pegs hanging on the wall. Alec was sitting on the low wooden bench next to him, kicking off his muck-covered boots. He was humming tunelessly under his breath, letting Jace know he wasn’t that annoyed. Isabelle was pulling the pins out of her long dark hair, allowing it to shower down around her. “Now I’m hungry,” she said. “I wish Mom were here to cook us something.”

“Better that she isn’t,” said Jace, unbuckling his weapons belt. “She’d already be shrieking about the rugs.”

“You’re right about that,” said a cool voice, and Jace swung around, his hands still at his belt, and saw Maryse Lightwood, her arms folded, standing in the doorway. She wore a stiff black traveling suit and her hair, black as Isabelle’s, was drawn back into a thick rope that hung halfway down her back. Her eyes, a glacial blue, swept over the three of them like a tracking searchlight.

“Mom!” Isabelle, recovering her composure, ran to her mother for a hug. Alec got to his feet and joined them, trying to hide the fact that he was still limping.

Jace stood where he was. There had been something in Maryse’s eyes as her gaze had passed over him that froze him in place. Surely what he had said wasn’t that bad. They joked about her obsession with the antique rugs all the time—

“Where’s Dad?” Isabelle asked, stepping back from her mother. “And Max?”

There was an almost imperceptible pause. Then Maryse said, “Max is in his room. And your father, unfortunately, is still in Alicante. There was some business there that required his attention.”

Alec, generally more sensitive to moods than his sister, seemed to hesitate. “Is something wrong?”

“I could ask you that.” His mother’s tone was dry. “Are you limping?”

“I…”

Alec was a terrible liar. Isabelle picked up for him, smoothly:

“We had a run-in with a Draconidae demon in the subway tunnels. But it was nothing.”

“And I suppose that Greater Demon you fought last week, that was nothing too?”

Even Isabelle was silenced by that. She looked to Jace, who wished she hadn’t.

“That wasn’t planned for.” Jace was having a hard time concentrating. Maryse hadn’t greeted him yet, hadn’t said so much as hello, and she was still looking at him with eyes like blue daggers. There was a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach that was beginning to spread. She’d never looked at him like this before, no matter what he’d done. “It was a mistake—”

“Jace!” Max, the youngest Lightwood, squeezed his way around Maryse and darted into the room, evading his mother’s reaching hand. “You’re back! You’re all back.” He turned in a circle, grinning at Alec and Isabelle in triumph. “I thought I heard the elevator.”

“And I thought I told you to stay in your room,” said Maryse.

“I don’t remember that,” said Max, with a seriousness that made even Alec smile. Max was small for his age—he looked about seven—but he had a self-contained gravity that, combined with his oversize glasses, gave him the air of someone older. Alec reached over and ruffled his brother’s hair, but Max was still looking at Jace, his eyes shining. Jace felt the cold fist clenched in his stomach relax ever so slightly. Max had always hero-worshiped him in a way that he didn’t worship his own older brother, probably because Jace was far more tolerant of Max’s presence. “I heard you fought a Greater Demon,” he said. “Was it awesome?”

“It was… different,” Jace hedged. “How was Alicante?”

“It was awesome. We saw the coolest stuff. There’s this huge armory in Alicante and they took me to some of the places where they make the weapons. They showed me a new way to make seraph blades too, so they last longer, and I’m going to try to get Hodge to show me—”

Jace couldn’t help it; his eyes flicked instantly to Maryse, his expression incredulous. So Max didn’t know about Hodge? Hadn’t she told him?

Maryse saw his look and her lips thinned into a knifelike line. “That’s enough, Max.” She took her youngest son by the arm.

He craned his head to look up at her in surprise. “But I’m talking to Jace—”

“I can see that.” She pushed him gently toward Isabelle. “Isabelle, Alec, take your brother to his room. Jace,”—there was a tightness in her voice when she spoke his name, as if invisible acid were drying up the syllables in her mouth—“get yourself cleaned up and meet me in the library as soon as you can.”

“I don’t get it,” said Alec, looking from his mother to Jace, and back again. “What’s going on?”

Jace could feel cold sweat start up along his spine. “Is this about my father?”

Maryse jerked twice, as if the words “my father” had been two separate slaps. “The library,” she said, through clenched teeth. “We’ll discuss the matter there.”

Alec said, “What happened while you were gone wasn’t Jace’s fault. We were all in on it. And Hodge said—”

“We’ll discuss Hodge later as well.” Maryse’s eyes were on Max, her tone warning.

“But, Mother,” Isabelle protested. “If you’re going to punish Jace, you should punish us as well. It would only be fair. We all did exactly the same things.”

“No,” said Maryse, after a pause so long that Jace thought perhaps she wasn’t going to say anything at all. “You didn’t.”

“Rule number one of anime,” Simon said. He sat propped up against a pile of pillows at the foot of his bed, a bag of potato chips in one hand and the TV remote in the other. He was wearing a black T-shirt that said I BLOGGED YOUR MOM and a pair of jeans with a hole ripped in one knee. “Never screw with a blind monk.”

“I know,” Clary said, taking a potato chip and dunking it into the can of dip balanced on the TV tray between them. “For some reason they’re always way better fighters than monks who can see.” She peered at the screen. “Are those guys dancing?”

“That’s not dancing. They’re trying to kill each other. This is the guy who’s the mortal enemy of the other guy, remember? He killed his dad. Why would they be dancing?”

Clary crunched at her chip and stared meditatively at the screen, where animated swirls of pink and yellow clouds rippled between the figures of two winged men, who floated around each other, each clutching a glowing spear. Every once in a while one of them would speak, but since it was all in Japanese with Chinese subtitles, it didn’t clarify much. “The guy with the hat,” she said. “He was the evil guy?”

“No, the hat guy was the dad. He was the magical emperor, and that was his hat of power. The evil guy was the one with the mechanical hand that talks.”

The telephone rang. Simon set the bag of chips down and made as if to get up and answer it. Clary put her hand on his wrist. “Don’t. Just leave it.”

“But it might be Luke. He could be calling from the hospital.”

“It’s not Luke,” Clary said, sounding more sure than she felt. “He’d call my cell, not your house.”

Simon looked at her a long moment before sinking back down on the rug beside her. “If you say so.” She could hear the doubt in his voice, but also the unspoken assurance, I just want you to be happy. She wasn’t sure “happy” was anything she was likely to be right now, not with her mother in the hospital hooked up to tubes and bleeping machines, and Luke like a zombie, slumped in the hard plastic chair next to her bed. Not with worrying about Jace all the time and picking up the phone a dozen times to call the Institute before setting it back down, the number still undialed. If Jace wanted to talk to her, he could call.

Maybe it had been a mistake to take him to see Jocelyn. She’d been so sure that if her mother could just hear the voice of her son, her firstborn, she’d wake up. But she hadn’t. Jace had stood stiff and awkward by the bed, his face like a painted angel’s, with blank indifferent eyes. Clary had finally lost her patience and shouted at him, and he’d shouted back before storming off. Luke had watched him go with a clinical sort of interest on his exhausted face. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you act like sister and brother,” he’d remarked.

Clary had said nothing in response. There was no point telling him how badly she wanted Jace not to be her brother. You couldn’t rip out your own DNA, no matter how much you wished you could. No matter how much it would make you happy.

But even if she couldn’t quite manage happy, she thought, at least here in Simon’s house, in his bedroom, she felt comfortable and at home. She’d known him long enough to remember when he had a bed shaped like a fire truck and LEGOs piled in a corner of the room. Now the bed was a futon with a brightly striped quilt that had been a present from his sister, and the walls were plastered with posters of bands like Rock Solid Panda and Stepping Razor. There was a drum set wedged into the corner of the room where the LEGOs had been, and a computer in the other corner, the screen still frozen on an image from World of Warcraft. It was almost as familiar as being in her own bedroom at home—which no longer existed, so at least this was the next best thing.

“More chibis,” said Simon gloomily. All the characters on-screen had turned into inch-high baby versions of themselves and were chasing each other around waving pots and pans. “I’m changing the channel,” Simon announced, seizing the remote. “I’m tired of this anime. I can’t tell what the plot is and no one ever has sex.”

“Of course they don’t,” Clary said, taking another chip. “Anime is wholesome family entertainment.”

“If you’re in the mood for less wholesome entertainment, we could try the porn channels,” Simon observed. “Would you rather watch The Witches of Breastwick or As I Lay Dianne?”

“Give me that!” Clary grabbed for the remote, but Simon, chortling, had already switched the TV to another channel.

His laughter broke off abruptly. Clary looked up in surprise and saw him staring blankly at the TV. An old black-and-white movie was playing—Dracula. She’d seen it before, with her mother. Bela Lugosi, thin and white-faced, was on-screen, wrapped in the familiar high-collared cloak, his lips curled back from his pointed teeth. “I never drink… wine,” he intoned in his thick Hungarian accent.

“I love how the spiderwebs are made out of rubber,” Clary said, trying to sound light. “You can totally tell.”

But Simon was already on his feet, dropping the remote onto the bed. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered. His face was the color of winter sky just before it rained. Clary watched him go, biting her lip hard—it was the first time since her mother had gone to the hospital that she’d realized maybe Simon wasn’t too happy either.

Toweling off his hair, Jace regarded his reflection in the mirror with a quizzical scowl. A healing rune had taken care of the worst of his bruises, but it hadn’t helped the shadows under his eyes or the tight lines at the corners of his mouth. His head ached and he felt slightly dizzy. He knew he should have eaten something that morning, but he’d woken up nauseated and panting from nightmares, not wanting to pause to eat, just wanting the release of physical activity, to burn out his dreams in bruises and sweat.

Tossing the towel aside, he thought longingly of the sweet black tea Hodge used to brew from the night-blooming flowers in the greenhouse. The tea had taken away hunger pangs and brought a swift surge of energy. Since Hodge’s death, Jace had tried boiling the plants’ leaves in water to see if he could produce the same effect, but the only result was a bitter, ashy-tasting liquid that made him gag and spit.

Barefoot, he padded into the bedroom and threw on jeans and a clean shirt. He pushed back his wet blond hair, frowning. It was too long at the moment, falling into his eyes—something Maryse would be sure to chide him about. She always did. He might not be the Lightwoods’ biological son, but they’d treated him like it since they’d adopted him at age ten, after the death of his own father. The supposed death, Jace reminded himself, that hollow feeling in his guts resurfacing again. He’d felt like a jack-o’-lantern for the past few days, as if his guts had been yanked out with a fork and dumped in a heap while a grinning smile stayed plastered on his face. He often wondered if anything he’d believed about his life, or himself, had ever been true. He’d thought he was an orphan—he wasn’t. He’d thought he was an only child—he had a sister.

Clary. The pain came again, stronger. He pushed it down. His eyes fell on the bit of broken mirror that lay atop his dresser, still reflecting green boughs and a diamond of blue sky. It was nearly twilight now in Idris: The sky was dark as cobalt. Choking on hollowness, Jace yanked his boots on and headed downstairs to the library.

He wondered as he clattered down the stone steps just what it was that Maryse wanted to say to him alone. She’d looked like she’d wanted to haul off and smack him. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d laid a hand on him. The Lightwoods weren’t given to corporal punishment—quite a change from being brought up by Valentine, who’d concocted all sorts of painful castigations to encourage obedience. Jace’s Shadowhunter skin always healed, covering all but the worst of the evidence. In the days and weeks after his father died Jace could remember searching his body for scars, for some mark that would be a token, a remembrance to tie him physically to his father’s memory.

He reached the library and knocked once before pushing the door open. Maryse was there, sitting in Hodge’s old chair by the fire. Light streamed down through the high windows and Jace could see the touches of gray in her hair. She was holding a glass of red wine; there was a cut-glass decanter on the table beside her.

“Maryse,” he said.

She jumped a little, spilling some of the wine. “Jace. I didn’t hear you come in.”

He didn’t move. “Do you remember that song you used to sing to Isabelle and Alec—when they were little and afraid of the dark—to get them to fall asleep?”

Maryse appeared taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“I used to hear you through the walls,” he said. “Alec’s bedroom was next to mine then.”

She said nothing.

“It was in French,” Jace said. “The song.”

“I don’t know why you’d remember something like that.” She looked at him as if he’d accused her of something.

“You never sang to me.”

There was a barely perceptible pause. Then, “Oh, you,” she said. “You were never afraid of the dark.”

“What kind of ten-year-old is never afraid of the dark?”

Her eyebrows went up. “Sit down, Jonathan,” she said. “Now.”

He went, just slowly enough to annoy her, across the room, and threw himself into one of the wing-back chairs beside the desk. “I’d rather you didn’t call me Jonathan.”

“Why not? It’s your name.” She looked at him consideringly. “How long have you known?”

“Known what?”

“Don’t be stupid. You know exactly what I’m asking you.” She turned her glass in her fingers. “How long have you known that Valentine is your father?”

Jace considered and discarded several responses. Usually he could get his way with Maryse by making her laugh. He was one of the only people in the world who could make her laugh. “About as long as you have.”

Maryse shook her head slowly. “I don’t believe that.”

Jace sat up straight. His hands were in fists where they rested on the chair arms. He could see a slight tremor in his fingers, wondered if he’d ever had it before. He didn’t think so. His hands had always been as steady as his heartbeat. “You don’t believe me?”

He heard the incredulity in his own voice and winced inwardly. Of course she didn’t believe him. That had been obvious from the moment she had arrived home.

“It doesn’t make sense, Jace. How could you not know who your own father is?”

“He told me he was Michael Wayland. We lived in the Wayland country house—”

“A nice touch,” said Maryse, “that. And your name? What’s your real name?”

“You know my real name.”

“Jonathan. I knew that was Valentine’s son’s name. I knew Michael had a son named Jonathan too. It’s a common enough Shadowhunter name—I never thought it was strange they shared it, and as for Michael’s boy’s middle name, I never inquired. But now I can’t help wondering. How long had Valentine been planning what he was going to do? How long did he know he was going to murder Jonathan Wayland—?” She broke off, her eyes fixed on Jace. “You never looked like Michael, you know,” she said. “But sometimes children don’t look like their parents. I didn’t think about it before. But now I can see Valentine in you. The way you’re looking at me. That defiance. You don’t care what I say, do you?”

But he did care. All he was good at was making sure she couldn’t see it. “Would it make a difference if I did?”

She set the glass down on the table beside her. It was empty. “And you answer questions with questions to throw me off, just like Valentine always did. Maybe I should have known.”

“Maybe nothing. I’m still exactly the same person I’ve been for the past seven years. Nothing’s changed about me. If I didn’t remind you of Valentine before, I don’t see why I would now.”

Her glance moved over him and away as if she couldn’t bear to look directly at him. “Surely when we talked about Michael, you must have known we couldn’t possibly have meant your father. The things we said about him could never have applied to Valentine.”

“You said he was a good man.” Anger twisted inside him. “A brave Shadowhunter. A loving father. I thought that seemed accurate enough.”

“What about photographs? You must have seen photographs of Michael Wayland and realized he wasn’t the man you called your father.” She bit her lip. “Help me out here, Jace.”

“All the photographs were destroyed in the Uprising. That’s what you told me. Now I wonder if it wasn’t because Valentine had them all burned so nobody would know who was in the Circle. I never had a photograph of my father,” Jace said, and wondered if he sounded as bitter as he felt.

Maryse put a hand to her temple and massaged it as if her head were aching. “I can’t believe this,” she said, as if to herself. “It’s insane.”

“So don’t believe it. Believe me,” Jace said, and felt the tremor in his hands increase.

She dropped her hand. “Don’t you think I want to?” she demanded, and for a moment he heard the echo in her voice of the Maryse who’d come into his bedroom at night when he was ten years old and staring dry-eyed at the ceiling, thinking of his father—and she’d sat by the bed with him until he’d fallen asleep just before dawn.

“I didn’t know,” Jace said again. “And when he asked me to come with him back to Idris, I said no. I’m still here. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

She turned to look back at the decanter, as if considering another drink, then seemed to discard the idea. “I wish it did,” she said. “But there are so many reasons your father might want you to remain at the Institute. Where Valentine is concerned, I can’t afford to trust anyone his influence has touched.”

“His influence touched you,” Jace said, and instantly regretted it at the look that flashed across her face.

“And I repudiated him,” said Maryse. “Have you? Could you?” Her dark hair, the shape of her face was like Alec’s, but Alec had never looked at him like this. “Tell me you hate him, Jace. Tell me you hate that man and everything he stands for.”

A moment passed, and another, and Jace, looking down, saw that his hands were so tightly fisted that the knuckles stood out white and hard like the bones in a fish’s spine. “I can’t say that.”

Maryse sucked in her breath. “Why not?”

“Why can’t you say that you trust me? I’ve lived with you almost half my life. Surely you must know me better than that?”

“You sound so honest, Jonathan. You always have, even when you were a little boy trying to pin the blame for something you’d done wrong on Isabelle or Alec. I’ve only ever met one person who could sound as persuasive as you.”

Jace tasted copper in his mouth. “You mean my father.”

“There were only ever two kinds of people in the world for Valentine,” she said. “Those who were for the Circle and those who were against it. The latter were enemies, and the former were weapons in his arsenal. I saw him try to turn each of his friends, even his own wife, into a weapon for the Cause—and you want me to believe he wouldn’t have done the same with his own son?” She shook her head. “I knew him better than that.” For the first time, Maryse looked at him with more sadness than anger. “You are an arrow shot directly into the heart of the Clave, Jace. You are Valentine’s arrow. Whether you know it or not.”

Clary shut the bedroom door on the blaring TV and went to look for Simon. She found him in the kitchen, bent over the sink with the water running. His hands were braced on the draining board.

“Simon?” The kitchen was a bright, cheerful yellow, the walls decorated with framed chalk and pencil sketches Simon and Rebecca had done in grade school. Rebecca had some drawing talent, you could tell, but Simon’s sketches of people all looked like parking meters with tufts of hair.

He didn’t look up now, though she could tell by the tightening of his shoulder muscles that he’d heard her. She went over to the sink, laying a hand lightly on his back. She felt the sharp nubs of his spine through the thin cotton T-shirt and wondered if he’d lost weight. She couldn’t tell by looking at him, but looking at Simon was like looking in a mirror—when you saw someone every day, you didn’t always notice small changes in their outward appearance. “Are you okay?”

He turned the water off with a hard jerk of his wrist. “Sure. I’m fine.”

She laid a finger against the side of his chin and turned his face toward her. He was sweating, the dark hair that lay across his forehead stuck to his skin, though the air coming through the half-open kitchen window was cool. “You don’t look fine. Was it the movie?”

He didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed, it’s just—”

“You don’t remember?” His voice sounded hoarse.

“I…” Clary trailed off. That night, looking back, seemed a long haze of running, of blood and sweat, of shadows glimpsed in doorways, of falling through space. She remembered the white faces of the vampires, like paper cutouts against the darkness, and remembered Jace holding her, shouting hoarsely into her ear. “Not really. It’s a blur.”

His gaze flicked past her and then back. “Do I seem different to you?” he asked.

She raised her eyes to his. His were the color of black coffee—not really black, but a rich brown without a touch of gray or hazel. Did he seem different? There might have been an extra touch of confidence in the way he held himself since the day he’d killed Abbadon, the Greater Demon; but there was alsoa wariness about him, as if he were waiting or watching for something. It was something she had noticed about Jace as well. Perhaps it was only the awareness of mortality. “You’re still Simon.”

He half-closed his eyes as if in relief, and as his eyelashes lowered, she saw how angular his cheekbones looked. He had lost weight, she thought, and was about to say so when he leaned down and kissed her.

She was so surprised at the feel of his mouth on hers that she went rigid all over, grabbing for the edge of the draining board to support herself. She did not, however, push him away, and clearly taking this as a sign of encouragement, Simon slid his hand behind her head and deepened the kiss, parting her lips with his. His mouth was soft, softer than Jace’s had been, and the hand that cupped her neck was warm and gentle. He tasted like salt.

She let her eyes fall shut and for a moment floated dizzily in the darkness and the heat, the feel of his fingers moving through her hair. When the harsh ring of the telephone cut through her daze, she jumped back as if he’d pushed her away, though he hadn’t moved. They stared at each other for a moment, in wild confusion, like two people finding themselves suddenly transported to a strange landscape where nothing was familiar.

Simon turned away first, reaching for the phone that hung on the wall beside the spice rack. “Hello?” He sounded normal, but his chest was rising and falling fast. He held the receiver out to Clary. “It’s for you.”

Clary took the phone. She could still feel the pounding of her heart in her throat, like the fluttering wings of an insect trapped under her skin. It’s Luke, calling from the hospital. Something’s happened to my mother.

She swallowed. “Luke? Is it you?”

“No. It’s Isabelle.”

“Isabelle?” Clary looked up and saw Simon watching her, leaning against the sink. The flush on his cheeks had faded. “Why are you—I mean, what’s up?”

There was a hitch in the other girl’s voice, as if she’d been crying. “Is Jace there?”

Clary actually held out the phone so she could stare at it before bringing the receiver back to her ear. “Jace? No. Why would he be here?”

Isabelle’s answering breath echoed down the phone line like a gasp. “The thing is… he’s gone.”
--This text refers to the paperback edition.

Product details

ASIN ‏ : ‎ B001NLKZUA
Publisher ‏ : ‎ Margaret K. McElderry Books; Reissue edition (March 14 2009)
Language ‏ : ‎ English
File size ‏ : ‎ 14667 KB
Text-to-Speech ‏ : ‎ Enabled
Screen Reader ‏ : ‎ Supported
Enhanced typesetting ‏ : ‎ Enabled
X-Ray ‏ : ‎ Enabled
Word Wise ‏ : ‎ Enabled
Sticky notes ‏ : ‎ On Kindle Scribe
Print length ‏ : ‎ 500 pages

Best Sellers Rank: #20,421 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
- #4 in Children's City Life Books
- #15 in Children's New Experiences Books
- #16 in Children's Books about New Experiences

Customer Reviews:
4.6 14,305 ratings

About the author

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Cassandra Clare

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Cassandra Clare is the author of the #1 New York Times, USA TODAY, Wall Street Journal, and Publishers Weekly bestselling Mortal Instruments series and the Infernal Devices trilogy, and coauthor of the Bane Chronicles with Sarah Rees Brennan and Maureen Johnson. She also wrote The Shadowhunter’s Codex with her husband, Joshua Lewis. Her books have more than 36 million copies in print worldwide and have been translated into more than thirty-five languages. Cassandra lives in western Massachusetts. Visit her at CassandraClare.com. Learn more about the world of the Shadowhunters at Shadowhunters.com.

Cassandra Clare
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Cassandra Clare
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Cassandra Clare
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Cassandra Clare
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Customer reviews

4.6 out of 5

14,305 global ratings

5 star		70%
4 star		21%
3 star		7%
2 star		1%
1 star		1%

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Top reviews from Canada

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Zombiecidal89

Another winner

Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on January 28, 2021

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Another great book by Clare. Honestly, you get lost in the shadow hunter world quite easily. Teen book or not, it was a great read!

Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on January 6, 2021

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Item came in perfect condition and arrived earlier than expected.

Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on January 10, 2021

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So happy with this book! It looks brand new.

Helpful

Sandra

Très bon livre et accrocheur

Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on August 7, 2014

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Je ne pouvais poser le livre, j'étais accroché attendant la suite. En lisant une infime partie du troisième, je me rends compte que cet auteur a beaucoup d'imagination et nous plonge facilement dans ce monde fascinant des vampires, chaseuts d'ombre, fées et lyvan... bonne lecture pour tous les ages meme s'il est classé pour ados...

Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on April 18, 2020

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I love it

Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on July 15, 2014

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i love the serious, read the first book and had to order the second. if youre thinking its a teen wolf/vampire book, its actually much better. the movie did not do the book justice so make sure you dont judge whether to read it or not from the movie!

One person found this helpful

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Amazon Customer

Fine

Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on December 21, 2016

Verified Purchase

Okay here's what happeneed, my package had like little holes in it and it affected the book just a bit but I don't know if this package was well handled.

Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on July 9, 2019

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My daughter loves her books

Helpful

Top reviews from other countries

Rinalikesreading

A great read for fantasy fans

Reviewed in the United Kingdom 🇬🇧 on May 5, 2017

Verified Purchase

I'm loving this series and feel no hesitation in buying the next one each time I finish one. I'm on the fifth book now. This isn't just for young adults, I'm married with kids and still enjoying it hugely.

I've tried a few of these fantasy series, trying to find something that can follow the brilliance of JK Rowlings' Harry Potter, Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials, Robin Hobbs' original Farseer trilogy or Philip Rothfuss' The Name of the Wind. I'm not saying this is quite at that level, but it comes far closer than dozens of similar books.

It may be that the only thing holding it back from that very top slot is modern publishing methods. Most of the shadowhunter series are sold as full price kindle books, but sadly, the final proofreading has been rushed and a few typos have slipped through. Luckily, the high quality of the writing shines through and you can forgive this. Cassandra Clare is such a great, pacy storyteller that I can't put the books down!

I reserve 5 stars for books that feel life-changing, move me deeply, or give me a unique perspective and perhaps I'm too old for these to do that for me. I would have given this four and a half if I could. What these books give me is a huge amount of entertainment and escapism.

The world is intriguing and makes sense, you can really feel immersed in it. The characters feel real, are full of charisma and are easy to identify with. The cast of characters develops realistically over time, they almost come alive on the page. The dialogue is incredibly natural, full of genuine emotion, hilarious at times and good enough for a screenplay. I also really like the way the characters experience and deal with real life issues.

I'd recommend this series to any fantasy fan.

9 people found this helpful

Teresa

Pushy simon

Reviewed in the United Kingdom 🇬🇧 on August 29, 2022

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Book two I read this with audio and Book but sadly it was not read word for word.in fact it was midnight in the book and audio said 5am.There was a few like that,plus the fairy queen with a Irish accent felt wrong.
The journey continues for clary.was not happy with Simon he kisses her knowing she is upset about loving Chase,then tells people she is his girlfriend without asking her, then gets pissed at her in fairy court for having feelings for chase. I felt as a best friend he was way to pushy.I did get fed up of her fussing over him.

Rebecca Minton

and this woman knows how to develop characters in a hella bad ass kinda way

Reviewed in the United Kingdom 🇬🇧 on April 21, 2016

Verified Purchase

This book was a re-read but I did read it a looooong time ago! It was such a homely feeling to return to The Mortal Instruments I started reading these years ago and got half way through Book 3 City of Glass. And then other books took over and then new books came out and I ended up so far behind! But now I'm back and ready to binge read through TMI!

In City of Glass we're not really introduced to many new characters, except for The Inquisitor and Valentine plays more of a role in the second novel. I ADORED the way Cassandra developed the relationships between all the characters, and this woman knows how to develop characters in a hella bad ass kinda way! The book obviously, mainly focuses on Clary and Jace after the bombshell in City of Bones Cassandra shows a slightly tormented relationship and this literally comes to life in the book and it's unreal how good it is to read the way they work together, without actually interacting *that* much! Of course i had SO MANY FEELS for Alec in this book. Alec and Magnus are by far my most favourite pairing of Characters in any book I've ever read. Alec is <3. I just wanted to crawl inside the book and live with the characters.

The storyline was obviously just SO FRICKIN GOOD I mean it's a Cassandra Clare novel for hells sake of course it kicks some serious butt. There's quite a bit of action in this one, which is fast paced and grips you to your seat. I raced through pages of this, and for a novel over 400 pages took me around 3 days worth of reading to read! I just could not put the book down. i was so eager to see what happened to each and every characters. How their storyline developed, what happened and who ended up where. This storyline had such a superb middle and the ending was fantastic but a massive set up for City of Glass, which by the way I've started! I think the way this flowed perfectly from City of Bones was a brilliant way to read it, I didn't have to back track or try and think because the move from book one to two was so perfectly aligned it's just natural to carry on going forward.

My favourite part all together of City of Ashes, apart from being reunited which these perfect characters, was the World Building again. Although we've already been introduced to the Institute and where the novel is set. Cassandra goes into such detail describing the characters moods, the scene, the mood in which you're supposed to read even down to what the weather was like! It's next level descriptions in these books.

All in all it was just so perfect to be back into this novel, have a good re-read and be ready for the next book. It was fast paced, tense and full of action packed battles and sizzling hot chemistry between characters.

2 people found this helpful

JMD

Easy reading romp

Reviewed in the United Kingdom 🇬🇧 on August 19, 2018

Verified Purchase

An interesting excursion into a fantasy world which includes all usual suspects. There are many teenage issues raised here across a broad spectrum of attitudes and feelings which like the twilight series engulfs the reader, particularly if you are from this age group. As for myself I enjoyed the diversity of fantastical devices it’s pure escapism. Unfortunately the film was non to successful from memory I thought the casting was not great which is a shame because it would make for a good movie franchise if handled properly, I am told there is a tv series but it’s only been released in the states. Anyway the book is a rollercoaster of a read and easy going if you are into fantasy, would recommend the novel to all lovers of the genre.

One person found this helpful

Lilly Heart

Wow wow wow wow

Reviewed in the United Kingdom 🇬🇧 on May 7, 2014

Verified Purchase

I was a little apprehensive about reading this book, because I loved the first one so much I thought nothing could top that. I a soooo happy to say I was wrong. I think this book is better then the first one. You were introduced to the world of 'shadowhunters' and some amazing characters. This book is so much better, Simon plays a big part, Alex is much better towards Clary, Jase and Clary' s feelings in this book is up for discussion, Even the Lightwoods, play a huge part.
The action in this book is all the way through it.
What I love most in this book and the way the first one was written is the way it is written. It is written in the 3rd person but you see the action from most of the characters. For instance, When Jace, Clary, Luke, Isabella, Alex and Magnus are in Luke's living room arguing, you read about the argument, then you read what Maia does at the same time upstairs in Luke's bedroom while the argument happens.
I have to remember when reading these books anyone under the age if 18 is a child, and most of the characters are even 15 or 16. Clary turned 16 in 'City of Bones' these are young teenagers who fight demons. It's such a great book and I can't wait to read the rest of this series of books.

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City of Ashes (The Mortal Instruments Book 2) Kindle Edition

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Cassandra Clare

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