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Tessa sat and sipped her tea, looking perfectly composed. Since she was one of Magnus’s dearest and oldest friends, he felt it would be nice if she looked even slightly apologetic. She did not.
“You told me once that you would not forgive me if I didn’t drop by whenever I found myself in the same city as you.” “I would have forgiven you,” Magnus said with conviction. “I would have thanked you.”
Magnus had a hard-won high opinion of himself,
“It’s an ointment, yes,” said Magnus, a little impatient. “You don’t maybe have anything you can drink, or eat?” “No,” said Magnus. “It’s an ointment. That’s how it comes.” “I just hate being all greasy.” “Well, that’s the price you pay, I guess,” said Magnus, “for your constant criminal activities.”
Magnus was dangling in the air above a ravine. All that prevented him from falling to his death was the black tentacle wrapped around his waist. The tentacle was not a huge comfort.
Alec was very familiar with how Jace behaved when he wanted to be your friend. He didn’t act friendly, which would have been too easy. Instead he just spent a lot of time in your presence until you got used to him being there, which he was clearly now doing with regard to Simon. When Jace and Alec were little, Jace had done a lot of hostile hanging around him, hoping to be noticed and loved.
Magnus looked at the severe lines of his face and thought of the relentlessness of angels.
Magnus could face anything, if Alec was safe. It was a dark explosion in Magnus’s mind, a howling scream of agony and rage. A rage that he rarely if ever allowed himself to feel. A rage that came from his father.
