Chain of Gold (The Last Hours #1) - Cassandra Clare Page 0,198

to the Hell Ruelle.”

James was silent for a moment. He preferred to avoid the Clave, in truth; there was too much they didn’t know. All they had been told—by Lucie, Matthew, and Cordelia—was that he had found and slain the Mandikhor in Highgate Cemetery with the help of his friends. He saw no reason for them to know more.

The situation had been different with his parents, however. When he had finally been coherent enough to tell the story, he had explained it to them, and to Lucie. He had told them the truth about his encounter with Belial, and the way Belial, having been wounded by Cortana, had crumbled to dust. Lastly, he told them of the blood relationship that existed between the Herondales and the Prince of Hell.

They had all reacted characteristically. Tessa had been practical and said that she’d been trying to find out who her father was for years, and at least now they knew. Lucie had looked shaken but said she would turn the story into a novel. Will had been angry at the world, and then gone to see Jem.

Jem, who had promised to keep the secret of Tessa’s parentage, had told Will that while a Prince of Hell could not be killed, such a serious wound would keep Belial weak and disembodied for at least a century.

James had told Christopher and Thomas as well, but everyone had agreed that it was best to keep the details regarding Belial a secret for now, especially as the Prince of Hell was not a current threat. His realm had crumbled away, Jem had explained, signifying a true loss of power for the Lord of Thieves. It was unlikely that James would ever feel the pull to the demon realm again, or ever see it at all.

“James?” His door cracked open and his mother stood on the threshold. She smiled when she saw him and Matthew, but there was a line of concern between her brows. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said, “Someone is here to see you. A young lady.”

James sat upright. “Cordelia?”

He saw Matthew give him a sideways look, but Tessa was already shaking her head.

“Not Cordelia,” she said. “It is Grace Blackthorn.”

It was Matthew’s turn to bolt into a sitting position. “Oh no,” he said. “No, no. Send her away. Tell her there’s a rat infestation. Tell her that vague, insidious behavior has been made illegal in the Institute and she’s not allowed in.”

Tessa merely raised her eyebrows. “She said it was regarding an important matter.”

Matthew turned to James imploringly. “Jamie. Don’t. After what she did…”

James glared at his parabatai. Even now, Tessa and Will knew little of the understanding he had once shared with Grace, and he preferred to keep it that way.

“Is it about her mother?” he said. “Isn’t Tatiana well again?”

“She is quite well,” said Tessa. The antidote had been incredibly effective; as far as James knew, not a single poisoned Shadowhunter had not recovered. “James, if you don’t want to see her—”

“I’ll see her,” James said, rising to his feet. “Send her in.”

As Tessa went to fetch Grace, Matthew rolled off the bed and toed on his shoes. He turned at the door to give James a sharp look. “Be careful,” he said, and departed, leaving the door open.

A moment later, as if she had been waiting for Matthew to leave, Grace came into the room.

She looked beautiful, as always. Her white-blond hair was pulled smoothly back from her oval face. Her cheeks were flushed with pale pink color, like the inside of a seashell. She wore a green dress, its hem wet and a bit draggled—it had been raining on and off for most of the day, and it was now late afternoon.

Once her beauty had shaken him like a storm. Now, seeing her, he felt only a great weariness—a bleary exhaustion, as if he had drunk too much the night before. He wished she were not here. Not because it hurt him to look at her, but because it didn’t.

He had thought of himself as someone who loved more deeply than that. “You wanted to talk to me alone,” he said. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Your mother—”

“Would go mad if she knew I was here,” Grace said. “Yes. But I had to talk to you.”

“You had better close the door, then,” he said. He had never been so short with Grace. It felt odd and awkward, but then, it felt odd