“Faeries are fallen angels," said Dorothea, "cast down out of heaven for their pride.""That's the legend," Jace said. "It's also said that they're the offspring of demons and angels, which always seemed more likely to me. Good and evil, mixing together. Faeries are as beautiful as angels are supposed to be, but they have a lot of mischief and cruelty in them. And you'll notice most of them avoid midday sunlight—""For the devil has no power," said Dorothea softly, as if she were reciting an old rhyme, "except in the dark.”

“The witch grunted. "Love gone wrong. The worst."Jace made a soft, almost inaudible noise at that—a chuckle. Dorothea's ears pricked like a cat's. "What's so funny, boy?""What would you know about it?" he said. "Love, I mean."Dorothea folded her soft white hands in her lap. "More than you might think," she said."Didn't I read your tea leaves, Shadowhunter? Have you fallen in love with the wrong person yet?"Jace said, "Unfortunately, Lady of the Haven, my one true love remains myself."Dorothea roared at that. "At least," she said, "you don't have to worry about rejection, Jace Wayland.""Not necessarily. I turn myself down occasionally, just to keep it interesting.”

“What would you know about it?" he said. "Love, I mean."Dorothea folded her soft white hands in her lap. "More than you might think," she said. "Didn't I read your tea leaves, Shadowhunter? Have you fallen in love with the wrong person yet?"Jace said, "Unfortunately, Lady of the Haven, my one true love remains myself."Dorothea roared at that. "At least," she said, "you don't have to worry about rejection, Jace Wayland.""Not necessarily. I turn myself down occasionally, just to keep it interesting.”

“That might be nice, an extra pair of arms," Jace said. "Handy in a fight.""Not if they're growing out of your..." Dorothea paused and smiled, not without malice. "Neck.”

“By the Angel," Jace said, looking the demon up and down. "I knew Greater Demons were meant to be ugly, but no one ever warned me about the smell."Abbadon opened its mouth and hissed. Inside its mouth were two rows of jagged glass-sharp teeth."I'm not sure about this wind and howling darkness business," Jace went on, "smells more like landfill to me. You sure you're not from Staten Island?”

“Angel and devil,” he said. “One is but a shade of the other.”