“Father . . . ," Gabriel began. "Father is a worm."Will gave a short laugh. He was in gear as if he had just come from the practice room, and his hair curled damply against his temples. He was not looking at Tessa, but she had grown used to that. Will hardly ever looked at her unless he had to. "It's good to see you've come round to our view of things, Gabriel, but this is an unusual way of announcing it."Gideon shot Will a reproachful look before turning back to his brother. "What do you mean, Gabriel? What did Father do?"Gabriel shook his head. "He's a worm," he said again, tonelessly."I know. He has brought shame on the name of Lightwood, and lied to both of us. He shamed and destroyed our mother. But we need not be like him."Gabriel pulled away from his brother's grip, his teeth suddenly flashing in an angry scowl. "You're not listening to me," he said. "He's a worm. A worm. A bloody great serpentlike thing. Since Mortmain stopped sending the medicine, he's been getting worse. Changing. Those sores upon his arms, they started to cover him. His hands, his neck, h-his face . . ." Gabriel's green eyes sought Will. "It was the pox, wasn't it? You know all about it, don't you? Aren't you some sort of expert?" "Well, you needn't act as if I invented it," said Will. "Just because I believed it existed. There are accounts of it—old stories in the library—”

“Will gave a short laugh. He was in gear as if he had just come from the practice room, and his hair curled damply against his temples. He was not looking at Tessa, but she had grown used to that. Will hardly ever looked at her unless he had to.”

“Will's Father's gaze went immediately to Gabriel, and then to Cecily, his eyes narrowing."And who is this gentlemen?" Will's grin widened. "Oh him," he said. "This is Cecliy's friend, Mr. Gabriel Lightworm." Gabriel, half in the act of stretching his hand to greet Mr. Herondale, froze in horror. "Lightwood," he sputtered. "Gabriel Lightwood.”

“I had thought we were friends," he said."I cannot be your friend."He took a step forward. "What if I were to ask you—""Gideon!" It was Henry, at the open door, breathless, wearing one of his terrible green-and-orange-striped waistcoats. "Your brother's here. Downstairs—"Gideon's eyes widened. "Gabriel's here?""Yes. Shouting something about your father, but he won't tell us anything more unless you're there. He swears it. Come along." Gideon hesitated, his eyes moving from Henry to Sophie, who tried to look invisible. "I . . .""Come now, Gideon." Henry rarely spoke sharply, and when he did, the effect was startling. "He's covered in blood.”

“My dad is here," She hissed, hoping to give Gabriel enough of a head start so he could make it to the elevators before Tom took out one of his hunting rifles and shot him."I know, I called him."She turned to Gabriel in wide-eyed disbelief. "Why would you do that? He wants to kill you."The Professor pulled himself up to his full height. "I want to marry you. That means that I need to make amends with your father. I want to be able to be in the same room without him attempting to shoot me. Or castrate me.”

“It was knock or go home and die. Rase knocked. The door opened with such alacrity that Rase wondered whether Gabriel had been standing on the other side, drawn to the door by the same uncanny instinct that had inspired him to torment Rase. "You said anytime," Rase said, before Gabriel could say anything. "I did." Gabriel seemed unperturbed at having his employer show up at his door. He stepped back to let Rase in. Rase had been expecting something in keeping with the rest of the building. Instead, Gabriel's apartment was shabby but spotless. It was one main room with a niche for the kitchen and a tiny bathroom that Rase could see through a narrow door that stood ajar. He walked to the center of the room and found himself only feet from Gabriel's bed, a sizable bed with a heavy iron frame. That stopped him in his tracks, and he stood there, wondering what to do with himself. "Beer?" Gabriel was so close that Rase could feel Gabriel's breath on his hair. "This isn't a social call," Rase said, not even trying to keep his voice steady. "Then why are your clothes still on?”