“I do not entirely know how to treat you Herondales,” he admitted. “A warlock has never had a child before. I cannot help but wonder: What will you become?” He looked steadily at James, and then at Lucie. The fire crackled in the grate, but neither of them spoke. Lucie thought of the demon at the bridge, telling James it would honor his blood. Her blood. Ragnor shrugged. “So be it,” he said, and left.
