Also by Cassandra Clare

“Vampire pizza,” Malcolm said.
“What?” Emma said.
“Nightshade’s opened up an Italian place on Cross Creek Road,” Malcolm said. “Best pizza for
miles, and they deliver.”
“Don’t you worry about what’s in the sauce?” Emma asked, clearly diverted. “Oh!” Her hand flew
to her mouth. “That reminds me, Malcolm. I was wondering if there was something you’d look at.”
“Is it a wart?” said Malcolm. “I can cure that, but it’ll cost you.”
“Why does everyone always think it’s a wart?” Emma pulled her phone out and in a few seconds
was showing him the photos of the body she’d found at the Sepulchre Bar. “There were these white
markings, here and here,” she said, pointing. “They look like graffiti, not paint but chalk or something
like that. . . .”
“First, gross,” Malcolm said. “Please don’t show me pictures of dead bodies without a warning.”
He peered closer. “Second, those look like remnants of a ceremonial circle. Someone drew a
protective ring on the ground. Maybe to protect themselves while they were casting whatever nasty
spell killed this guy.”
“He was burned,” Emma said. “And drowned, I think. At least, his clothes were wet and he
smelled like salt water.”
She was frowning, her eyes dark. It could have been the memory of the body, or just the thought of
the ocean. It was an ocean she lived across from, ran beside every day, but Julian knew how much it
terrified her. She could force herself into it, sick and shaking, but he hated watching her do it, hated
watching his strong Emma torn to shreds by the terror of something so primal and nameless she
couldn’t explain it even to herself.
It made him want to kill things, destroy things to keep her safe. Even though she could keep herself
safe. Even though she was the bravest person he knew.
Julian snapped back to the present. “Forward me the photos,” Malcolm was saying. “I’ll look them
over more closely and let you know.”
“Hey!” Livvy appeared at the top of the stairs, having changed out of her training gear. “Ty found
something. About the killings.”
Malcolm looked puzzled.
“On the computer,” Livvy elaborated. “You know, the one we’re not supposed to have. Oh, hi,
Malcolm.” She waved vigorously. “You guys should come upstairs.”
“Would you stay, Malcolm?” Emma asked, scrambling to her feet. “We could use your help.”
“That depends,” Malcolm said. “Does the computer play movies?”
“It can play movies,” said Julian cautiously.
Malcolm looked pleased. “Can we watch Notting Hill?”
“We can watch anything, if you’re willing to help,” Emma said. She glanced at Jules. “And we can
find out what Ty discovered. You’re coming, right?”
Silently Julian cursed Malcolm’s love of romantic movies. He wished he could head to his studio
and paint. But he couldn’t exactly avoid Ty or abandon Malcolm.
“I could get snacks from the kitchen,” Emma said, sounding hopeful. After all, for years it had been
their habit to watch old movies on their witchlight-powered TV, eating popcorn by the flickering
illumination.
Julian shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”
He almost thought he could hear Emma sigh. A moment later she disappeared after Livvy, up the
stairs. Julian made as if to follow them, but Malcolm stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.