Crying Wouldn't Help Anything Now.

Jace Wasn’t Exactly Prone To Random Fits Of Panic

She Glanced Down And Saw That A Glove Of Blood Covered Her Lower Arm From The Elbow To The Wrist. The Arm Was Throbbing, Stiff, And Painful. "is This When You Start Tearing Strips Off Your T-shirt To Bind Up My Wound?" She Joked. She Hated The Sight Of Blood, Especially Her Own. "if You Wanted Me To Rip My Clothes Off, You Should Have Just Asked." He Dug Into His Pocket And Brought Out His Stele. "it Would Have Been A Lot Less Painful.

Not All That Is Mortal Is Useless.

Will Only Looked At Her. There Had Been Light In His Eyes On The Stairs, As He'd Locked The Door, When He'd Kissed Her--a Brilliant, Joyous Light. And It Was Going Now, Fading Like The Last Breath Of Someone Dying. She Thought Of Nate, Bleeding To Death In Her Arms. She Had Been Powerless Then, To Help Him. As She Was Now. She Felt As If She Were Watching The Life Bleed Out Of Will Herondale, And There Was Nothing She Could Do To Stop It.

She Had Imagined Jace Leaping From The Bed In Astonishment And Gasping Something Like "egad!" This Didn't Happen-largely, She Suspected, Because Jace Had Seen Much Stranger Things In His Life, And Also Because Nobody Used The Word "egad!" Anymore. His Eyes Widened, Though.