Also by Cassandra Clare

“Beautiful,” he said finally.
“Do you mean your haircut?” she asked, trying for a teasing voice, but it wobbled in the middle.
Maybe she shouldn’t have offered to so intimately touch a complete stranger, even if he did seem
harmless, even if she hadn’t meant anything by it—had she?
“No,” he said on a soft exhale. She felt his breath warm on her neck, and his hand slid over hers.
His was rough and calloused, scarred along the palm. Her heart gave an uneven leap in her chest just
as Mark’s bedroom door opened.
She nearly jumped away from him as Ty and Livvy appeared in the doorway. Livvy was holding
her phone, and her eyes were wide and worried. “It’s Emma,” she said, lifting the phone. “She texted
nine-one-one. We need to go meet them right away.”