Read City of Fallen Angels for Free Online

times, technically…”
    “I never told either of them I was going to the wedding with them!” Simon sounded panicked.
    “Yes, but they’re going to expect you to. That’s why girls have boyfriends. So you have someone to take you to boring functions.” Clary moved out to the edge of the beam, looking down into the witchlight-illuminated shadows below. There was an old training circle chalked on the floor; it looked like a bull’s-eye. “Anyway, I have to jump off this beam now and possibly hurtle to my horrible death. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
    “I’ve got band practice at two, remember? I’ll see you there.”
    “See you.” She hung up and stuck the phone into her bra; the light training clothes didn’t have any pockets, so what was a girl to do?
    “So, are you planning to stay up there all night?” Jace stepped into the center of the bull’s-eye and looked up at her. He was wearing fighting gear, not training clothes like Clary was, and his fair hair stood out startlingly against the black. It had darkened slightly since the end of summer and was more a dark gold than light, which, Clary thought, suited him even better. It made her absurdly happy that she had now known him long enough to notice small changes in his appearance.
    “I thought you were coming up here,” she called down. “Change of plans?”
    “Long story.” He grinned up at her. “So? You want to practice flips?”
    Clary sighed. Practicing flips involved flinging herself off the beam into empty space, and using the flexible cord to hold her while she pushed off the walls and flipped herself over and under, teaching herself to whirl, kick, and duck without worrying about hard floors and bruises. She’d seen Jace do it, and he looked like a falling angel while he did, flying through the air, whirling and spinning with beautiful, balletic grace. She, on the other hand, curled up like a potato bug as soon as the floor approached, and the fact that she intellectually knew she wasn’t going to hit it didn’t seem to make any difference.
    She was starting to wonder if it didn’t matter that she’d been born a Shadowhunter; maybe it was too late for her to be made into one, or at least a fully functional one. Or maybe the gift that made her and Jace what they were had been somehow distributed unequally between them, so he had gotten all the physical grace, and she had gotten—well, not a lot of it.
    “Come on, Clary,” Jace said. “Jump.” She closed her eyes and jumped. For a moment she felt herself hang suspended, free of everything. Then gravity took over, and she plunged toward the floor. Instinctively she pulled her arms and legs in, keeping her eyes squeezed shut. The cord pulled taut and she rebounded, flying back up before falling again. As her velocity slowed, she opened her eyes and found herself dangling at the end of the cord, about five feet above Jace. He was grinning.
    “Nice,” he said. “As graceful as a falling snowflake.”
    “Was I screaming?” she asked, genuinely curious. “You know, on the way down.”
    He nodded. “Thankfully no one’s home, or they would have assumed I was murdering you.”
    “Ha. You can’t even reach me.” She kicked out a leg and spun lazily in midair.
    Jace’s eyes glinted. “Want to bet?”
    Clary knew that expression. “No,” she said quickly. “Whatever you’re going to do—”
    But he’d already done it. When Jace moved fast, his individual movements were almost invisible. She saw his hand go to his belt, and then something flashed in the air. She heard the sound of parting fabric as the cord above her head was sheared through. Released, she fell freely, too surprised to scream—directly into Jace’s arms. The force knocked him backward, and they sprawled together onto one of the padded floor mats, Clary on top of him. He grinned up at her.
    “Now,” he said, “that was much better. You didn’t scream at all.”
    “I didn’t get the chance.” She was