Be a hero, Simon, " Simon muttered bitterly, remembering the life Magnus Bane had dangled before him in their first meeting - or at least, the first one Simon could remember. "Have an adventure, Simon. How about, turn your life into one long agonizing gym class, Simon." "Dude, you're talking to yourself again.
Simon's horse was defective, or possibly a genius that had worked out that Simon could not possibly control it. It went off for a wander in the woods, with Simon on its back alternately pleading, threatening, and offering bribes. If Simon's horse could read his every thought, then Simon's horse was a sadist.
"He passed over his fall, and appointed him first of the Apostles; wherefore He said: ' 'Simon, Simon,' etc. (in Ps. cxxix. 2). God allowed him to fall, because He meant to make him ruler over the whole world, that, remembering his own fall, he might forgive those who should slip in the future. And that what I have said is no guess, listen to Christ Himself saying: 'Simon, Simon, etc.'"
Saint John Chrysostom
Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Oh, for the Angel's sake. Look, if there's no other way of getting out of this, I'll kiss Simon. I've done it before, it wasn't that bad." "Thanks, " said Simon. "That's very flattering." "Well, I'm not kissing the mundane, " said Jace. "I'd rather stay down here and rot." "Forever?" said Simon. "Forever's an awfully long time." Jace raised his eyebrows. "I knew it, " he said. "You want to kiss me, don't you?" Simon threw up his hands in exasperation. "Of course not. But if-" "I guess it's true what they say, " observed Jace. "There are no straight men in the trenches." "That's atheists, jackass, " said Simon furiously. "There are no atheists in the trenches.
Simon had shamelessly tried to curry favor with Isabelle's father by teaching Robert Lightwood how to use Simon's digital watch as a timer. Robert was now holding the watch in a death grip and studying it carefully. It would be Robert's turn with the baby again in sixteen minutes, and he had clasped Simon's shoulder and said, 'Thanks, son, ' which Simon took as a blessing to date Robert's daughter.
Oh, Draven, " Simon said in a falsetto as he clasped his hands together and held them to his shoulder. He gave Draven a worshipful look. "You're my hero too!" Simon sniffed as if he were holding back tears and threw his arms about Draven's shoulders. "If not for you, that mean old boar would have eaten me alive." Draven pushed Simon away from him. "Get off me, you nimble-pated gelding." "But Draven, " Simon said again in his falsetto, "you're my hero. Give me a kiss." Draven ducked Simon's embrace and stepped behind Emily. "What are you? Moonstruck?" "Fine then, " Simon snapped. "Here, Emily, you kiss him for me." And before either one knew what Simon was about, she found herself tossed into Draven's arms. Their bodies collided. Draven's arms encircled her, and for a moment she couldn't breathe as she stared up into those startled blue eyes. Heat sizzled between them, skipping along both their bodies. Stealing their breath and setting fire to their blood. When Draven made no move to kiss her, Simon tasked. "Fine then, " Simon said, pulling her out of Draven's embrace and into his own. "Let me show you how a kiss is given." Simon dipped his lips to hers, but before he could make contact, Draven caught his chin in one hand and pulled his face away from hers. "If your lips so much as pucker near hers, I will geld you, brother." -Simon and Draven
I'll walk you back, Jace said. "As for Simon, he can manage his own way back in the dark-can't you Simon?" "Of course he can, Alec said indignantly, as if eager to make up for his earlier slighting of Simon. "He's a vampire-and," he added, "I just realized that you were probably joking. Never mind me.
He's not feeling well," Clary said, catching at Simon's wrist. "We're going." "No," Simon said. "No, I "" I need to talk to him. To the Inquisitor." Robert reached into his jacket and drew out a crucifix. Clary stared in shock as he held it up between himself and Simon. "I speak to the Night's Children Council representative, or to the head of the New York clan," he said. "Not to any vampire who comes to knock at my door """ Simon reached out and plucked the cross out of Robert's hand. "Wrong religion," he said.
He's not feeling well," Clary said, catching at Simon's wrist. "We're going." "No," Simon said. "No, I - I need to talk to him. To the Inquisitor." Robert reached into his jacket and drew out a crucifix. Clary stared in shock as he held it up between himself and Simon. "I speak to the Night's Children Council representative, or to the head of the New York clan," he said. "Not to any vampire who comes to knock at my door-" Simon reached out and plucked the cross out of Robert's hand. "Wrong religion," he said.
Simon!" The voice was Clary's. He would know it anywhere. He wondered if his mind was conjuring it up now, a sense memory of what he'd most loved during life to carry him through the process of death. "Simon, you stupid idiot! I'm over here! At the window!" Simon jumped to his feet. He doubted his mind would conjure that up.
Simon!' The voice was Clary's. He would know it anywhere. He wondered if his mind was conjuring it up now, a sense memory of what he'd most loved during life to carry him through the process of death. 'Simon, you stupid idiot! I'm over here! At the window!' Simon jumped to his feet. He doubted his mind would conjure that up.
Simon I've been trying to call you, but it seems like your phone is turned off. I don't know where you are right now. I don't know if Clary's already told you what happened tonight. But I have to go to Magnus's and I'd really like you to be there. I'm scared for my brother. I never ask you for anything, Simon, but I'm asking you now. Please come. Isabelle. Simon let the letter fall from his hand. He was out of the apartment and on his way down the steps before it had even hit the floor.
I am here to determine my relationship." Simon goggled. She couldn't be talking about him. Could she? "Do you see that man?" Isabelle asked, pointing at Simon. Apparently she was talking about him. "That's Simon Lewis, and he is my boyfriend. So if any of you think about trying to hurt him because he's a mundie or-may the Angel have mercy on your soul-pursuing him romantically, I will come after you, I will hunt you down and I will crush you to powder.
This time Clary concentrated, trying to focus her mind on Simon-The Simon-ness of him, the shape of the way he thought, the feeling of hearing his voice, the sence of him close. His whispers, his secrets, the way he made her laugh. 'So', she thought conversationally, 'now that I'm in your mind, wnat to see some naked mental pictures of Jace?' Simon jumped. "I heard that! And, no.
It was Eric's voice not Simon's, on the recorded message. "Ladies, ladies " he said. Though it was the millionth time she'd heard the recording, Clary couldn't help rolling her eyes. "If you've reached this message that means our boy Simon is out partying. But please don't fight among yourselves. There's always enough Simon to go around." There was a muffled yell, some laughter, and then the long sound of the beep.
It was Eric's voice not Simon's, on the recorded message. 'Ladies, ladies ' he said. Though it was the millionth time she'd heard the recording, Clary couldn't help rolling her eyes. 'If you've reached this message that means our boy Simon is out partying. But please don't fight among yourselves. There's always enough Simon to go around.' There was a muffled yell, some laughter, and then the long sound of the beep.
The first morning Simon had been at Amatis's house, a grinning lycanthrope had showed up on the doorstep with a live cat for him. "Blood, " he'd said, in a heavily accented voice. "For you. Fresh!" Simon had thanked the werewolf, waited from him to leave, and let the cat go, his expression faintly green. "We'll you're going to have to get your blood from somewhere, " said Luke, looking amused. "I have a pet cat, " Simon replied. "There's no way.
No. Absolutely not." "Simon," she said. "It's a perfectly fine plan." "The plan where you follow Jace and Sebastian off to some unknown dimensional pocket and we use these rings to communicate so those of us over here in the regular dimension of Earth can track you down? That plan?" "Yes." "No," he said. "No, it isn't." Clary sat back. "You don't just get to say no." "This plan involves me! I get to say no! No." "Simon""" Simon patted the seat beside him as if someone were sitting there. "Let me introduce you to my good friend No.
What's that you're holding?" he asked, noticing the pamphlet, still rolled up in her left hand. "Oh, this?" She held it up. "How to Come Out to Your Parents." He widened his eyes. "Something you want to tell me?" "It's not for me. It's for you." She handed it to him. "I don't have to come out to my mother, " said Simon. "She already thinks I'm gay because I'm not interested in sports and I haven't had a serious girlfriend yet. Not that she knows of, anyway." "But you have to come out as a vampire, " Clary pointed out. "Luke thought you could, you know, use one of the suggested speeches in the pamphlet, except use the word 'undead' instead of-" "I get it, I get it." Simon spread the pamplet open. "Here, I'll practice on you." He cleared his throat. "Mom. I have something to tell you. I'm undead. Now, I know you may have some preconceived notions about the undead. I know you may not be comfortable with the idea of me being undead. But I'm here to tell you that the undead are just like you and me." Simon paused. "Well, okay. Possibly more like me than you." "SIMON." "All right, all right." He went on. "The first thing you need to understand is that I'm the same person I always was. Being undead isn't the most important thing about me. It's just part of who I am. The second thing you should know is that it isn't a choice. I was born this way." Simon squinted at her over the pamphlet. "Sorry, reborn this way.
Hope you didn't bring any spiders into the van with you, ' Simon put in. 'Hey, I'm thinking we could take you back outside and hose you down, just to make sure. You'd definitely smell better if we did, which, I mean, bonus.' Jeremy scraped both hands through his hair again, then beat them clean against his thighs. 'Believe me, Simon, if we had access to a garden hose, I'd be the first to turn it on myself. I feel foul.' 'Hate to break it to you, Archer, but that feeling is not lying to you, ' Simon said with mild relish.
Well I'm not kissing the mundane, " said Jace. "I'd rather stay down here and rot." "Forever?" said Simon. "Forever is an awfully long time." Jace raised his eyebrows, "I knew it, " he said, "you want to kiss me, don't you?" Simon threw his hands up in exasperation. "Of course not but if-" "I guess it's true what they say, " observed Jace. "There are no straight men in the trenches." "That's atheists jackass, " said Simon furiously. "There are no atheists in the trenches.
Simon stepped between them. "I'm not going to let you fight with each other." "And what are you going to do about it if . . . Oh." Jace's gaze trailed up to Simon's forehead, and he grinned reluctantly. " So basically you're threatening to turn me into something you can sprinkle on popcorn if I don't do what you say?
We?" Simon looked at him in disbelief. "Are you ever going home?" "What, bored with my company already?" "Let me ask you something, " Simon said. "Do you find me fascinating to be around?" "What was that?" Jace said. "Sorry, I think I fell asleep for a moment. Do, continue with whatever mesmerizing thing you were saying.
Simon stepped between them. 'I'm not going to let you fight with each other.' 'And what are you going to do about it if... Oh.' Jace's gaze trailed up to Simon's forehead, and he grinned reluctantly. ' So basically you're threatening to turn me into something you can sprinkle on popcorn if I don't do what you say?
Thank you, Simon, I appreciate that." Luke opened the pizza box and, finding it empty, shut it with a sigh. "Though you did eat all the pizza." "I only had five slices, " Simon protested, leaning his chair backward so it balanced precariously on its two back legs. "How many slices did you think were in a pizza, dork?" Clary wanted to know. "Less than five slices isn't a meal. It's a snack." Simon looked apprehensively at Luke. "Does this mean you're going to wolf out and eat me?" "Certainly not." Luke rose to toss the pizza box into the trash. "You would be stringy and hard to digest." "But kosher, " Simon pointed out cheerfully. "I'll be sure to point any Jewish lycanthropes your way." Luke leaned his back against the sink.
Simon turned to Jordan, who was lying down across the futon, his head propped against one of the woven throw pillows. "How much of that did you hear?" "Enough to gather that we're going to a party tonight," said Jordan. "I heard about the Ironworks event. I'm not in the Garroway pack, so I wasn't invited." "I guess you're coming as my date now." Simon shoved the phone back into his pocket. "I'm secure enough in my masculinity to accept that," said Jordan. "We'd better get you something nice to wear, though," he called as Simon headed back into his room. "I want you to look pretty.
Simon turned to Jordan, who was lying down across the futon, his head propped against one of the woven throw pillows. "How much of that did you hear?" "Enough to gather that we're going to a party tonight, " said Jordan. "I heard about the Ironworks event. I'm not in the Garroway pack, so I wasn't invited." "I guess you're coming as my date now." Simon shoved the phone back into his pocket. "I'm secure enough in my masculinity to accept that, " said Jordan. "We'd better get you something nice to wear, though, " he called as Simon headed back into his room. "I want you to look pretty.
The pile of guts was a black blob of flies that buzzed like a saw. After a while these flies found Simon. Gorged, they alighted by his runnels of sweat and drank. They tickled under his nostrils and played leapfrog on his thighs. They were black and iridescent green and without number; and in front of Simon, the Lord of the Flies hung on his stick and grinned. At last Simon gave up and looked back; saw the white teeth and dim eyes, the blood""and his gaze was held by that ancient, inescapable recognition.
Even the king's Erkynguard might have wished to be elsewhere, rather than here on this killing ground where duty brought them and loyalty prisoned them. Only the mercenaries were here by choice. To Simon, the minds of men who would come to this of their own will were suddenly as incomprehensible as the thoughts of spiders or lizards-less so, even, for the small creatures of the earth almost always fled from danger. These were madmen, Simon realized, and that was the direst problem of the world: that madmen should be strong and unafraid, so that they could force their will on the weak and peace-loving. If God allowed such madness to be, Simon could not help thinking, then He was an old god who had lost His grip.
But that's not what you said when she walked into the room, " said Simon quietly. "You said, 'Why didn't you ever tell me I had a brother?'" "I know." Clary yanked a blade of grass out of the dirt, worrying it between her fingers. "I guess I can't help thinking that if I'd known the truth, I wouldn't have met Jace the way I did. I wouldn't have fallen in love with him." Simon was silent for a moment. "I don't think I've ever heard you say that before." "That I love him?" She laughed, but it sounded dreary even to her ears. "Seems useless to pretend like I don't, at this point. Maybe it doesn't matter. I probably won't ever see him again, anyway." "He'll come back." "Maybe." "He'll come back, " Simon said again. "For you.
It's like Dungeons and Dragons, but real." Jace was looking at Simon as if he were some bizarre species of insect. "It's like what?" "It's a game, " Clary explained. She felt vaguely embarrassed. "People pretend to be wizards and elves, and they kill monsters and stuff." Jace looked stupefied. Simon grinned. "you've never hear of Dungeon and Dragons?" "I've heard of dungeons, " Jace said. "Also dragons. Although they're mostly extinct." Simon looked disappointed. "You've never killed a dragon?" "He's probably never met a six-foot-tall hot elf-woman in a fur bikini, either, " Clary said irritably. "Lay off, Simon." "Real elves are about eight inches tall, " Jace pointed out. "Also, they bite.