“We’re here to send you back to Hell where you belong,” Tarren said, his eyes glinting dangerously. …Yeah, course he said that. Tarren is full of witty one-liners. He spends hours every night thinking them up and writing them down in his diary… No, I’ve seen it. It’s pink and got little flowers all over it. …Oh, now that’s just mean. Wait, you’re making me laugh, I gotta keep going…. The story. Stop interrupting. I’m losing my place.”

“I pulled away. He stopped me with a hand on my wrist. “Wait,” he said. “I know what you’re thinking.”“What?”“It’s written all over your face.” He pushed a lock of hair out of my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Kyle shook his head. “Fine. Whatever it is you’re not telling me, I’ll find out eventually.”He got to his feet. “And now, I’m beat. I’m going to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said to Simon. “You,” he said to Jace, “well, I guess I’ll see you around. You’re the first Shadowhunter I’ve ever met.”“That’s too bad,” said Jace, “since all the ones you meet from now on will be a terrible letdown.”Kyle rolled his eyes and left, banging his bedroom door shut behind him.”

“I want pancakes.”“What? Right now?”“No. For breakfast.”“Oh.” He yawned. “You’d better get up early then.”“Me? I’m not going to make them.”“Yeah?” His sleepy voice carried mock sympathy. “Who’s going to make them for you then?”“You are.”“Am I? You think I’m going to make you pancakes? Is that how you think it’s going to be?""You’re so good at,” I whined. “Besides, if you do, I’ll sit on the counter in a short robe while you cook.” His soft laughter segued into another yawn. “Oh. Well then.” He kissed my ear again. “Maybe I’ll make you pancakes.”

“If she dies, you’re all to blame,” he said, turning accusing eyes on his family and hers. “This damned feud has to stop. Here. Now. For good.” He turned his gaze to Sam and said, “I’m sorry for what happened to you. It was an accident, plain and simple. I love your sister and I am, by God, going to make her my wife.” He turned to the rest of them and said, “And we’re going to be showing up for the holidays, and you’d better damned well make us welcome.”Owen was crying, the tears streaming unashamedly town his face. “I love Bayleigh Creed. Do you hear me? I love her!”“I think everyone can hear you just fine,” Bay murmured. “Oh, God, Red,” he said, smiling down at her through the blur of tears. “I thought you were dying.”She lifted a shaky hand to her head, but he caught it before she could touch the wound. “My head hurts like hell. But I enjoyed the speech, Owe.”

“Lolita,” he said, turning my book over in his hands. His eyes widened over the pink-lipped mouth on the cover, then handed it to me. Our fingers brushed, and a warm current coursed through them. My heart thundered so loud he could probably hear it.“So,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “You’re a smuthound with daddy issues?” The corner of his mouth turned up in a slow, condescending smile.I wanted to smack it off his face. “Well, you’re quoting it. And incorrectly, by the way. So what does that make you?”His half-smile morphed into a whole grin. “Oh, I’m definitely a smuthound with daddy issues.”