Page 109 of Better in Black
“We’re here for Maryse,” Jace said. “My adoptive mother. Your sister.”
His voice was soft, soft enough for Clary to feel the urge to squeeze his hand. It was hard to remember a time when Jace had been a stranger to her, and she’d believed his pose as a guy who couldn’t be bothered to care about anything or anyone. He was so transparent to her now, his every inflection. Right now she could see him hoping, with every part of his being, that Max would prove himself worthy of Maryse.Please,Jace was thinking, behind his neutral expression,be the man she needs you to be.
“Maybe you are,” Max said. “But you see, my sister abandoned me a long time ago. Turned her back on me, along with the rest of the Nephilim. Do you know what it feels like, having your Marks stripped?”
Jace cleared his throat. “No, but—”
“It’s like having your soul ripped out through your skin,” said Max. “Through a thousand burning cuts. And you lie there screaming, knowing that everyone, the whole Clave, believes this is what you deserve. What you’ve earned, for having dared to—”
“To fall in love?” Clary said, as gently as she could.
Max looked at her wearily. “Don’t pretend like you understand,” he said. “Just—look, if Maryse cared, she wouldn’t have sent you. She’d have come herself.”
“But she didn’t—” Clary started to protest.
Max’s face was set like stone. “Stop talking,” he said. “I’m going to need you to get off my property. Go.”
And he slammed the door in their faces.
—
“Maybe you were right,” Clary whispered. She and Jace had backed away from the front door and were standing on the pathway, trying to decide what to do. “Maybe this was a terrible idea. Should we go?”
But there was a dark look in Jace’s eyes, one Clary recognized. A look of determination. “No,” he said. “We’re not leaving.”
“Now you’re just being contrary for the sake of it.”
Jace shook his head. “It’s not that. Clary, I don’t want to disrespect his wishes. But he thinks Maryse didn’t come herself because she doesn’t care. We at least owe him the truth about why we came alone.”
Clary gave his hand a quick squeeze. “You’re right.”
Jace pressed a finger to his lips and beckoned Clary to follow him. They circled the perimeter of the house, peering from a discreet distance through the windows. Living room. Bathroom. Kitchen. Until, through a window in the back of the house, they spotted Max. He was in what looked like a study, sitting at a desk heaped with books.
His head was bent over a pile of parchment bound with leather straps, his shoulders hunched. Clary wondered how he could possibly concentrate at a time like this, and got her answer a second later when he shoved the book away from him. As she watched, he took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes.
Jace was toeing a corner of the lawn where tall oak trees shadowed the grass. He bent down and caught up a handful of acorns. He tossed one at Max’s window. It glanced lightly off the glass.
Tap.
“Oh, give me one of those,” Clary said, grabbing an acorn out of his hand. She threw it, hard.
TAP.
Now Max looked up, sliding his glasses back on. He was scowling.
Jace grinned, and tossed another handful.
Taptaptap.
Max stalked over to the window, glaring—and saw Jace and Clary watching. Jace waved cheerfully.
Max threw open the window. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Throwing acorns,” Jace said, as if this should be obvious.
Clary seized the opportunity while she could. “Wait!” she called, stepping forward. “I don’t think you understand why we’re here—”
Max glared. “I understand exactly why you’re here—”
