“Because he left me behind!” he shouted. “Normally I’d be with him, covering him, watching his back, keeping him safe. But you—you’re dead weight, a mundane.” He spit the word out as if it were an obscenity. “No,” Clary said. “I’m not. I’m Nephilim—just like you.” His lip curled up at the corner. “Maybe,” he said. “But with no training, no nothing, you’re still not much use, are you?
