Chain of Gold (The Last Hours, #1)

by Cassandra Clare

Anna shuddered. “Orange is not the color of seduction, Christopher. Orange is the color of despair, and pumpkins. Regardless, I have all the clothes I need. However”—she held up a finger, the nail clipped quite short—“the Hell Ruelle is not assembled every night. The next salon is tomorrow.” “Then we will go tomorrow,” said James. “We cannot possibly all go to the Hell Ruelle,” said Anna. “Hypatia wouldn’t like it if we all show up in a gaggle. A gaggle is not dignified.” “It makes sense for me to go,” said Matthew. “They know me there.” “I should go as well,” said James. “It is possible my shadow power might be useful. I have utilized it before to—to acquire certain things.” Everyone looked puzzled, but James’s expression was not one that suggested a request for clarification would be welcome. Anna smiled her slow, scotch-and-honey smile. “And Cordelia as well, of course,” she said. “A beautiful girl is always a distraction, and we will need to be very distracting indeed.” James and Matthew both glanced at Cordelia. I will not blush, she told herself fiercely. I will not. She had a suspicion she looked as if she might be choking.