He sounded bitter.

“How nice for you to be related to such an important sort of demon,” said Alastair dryly.

“If it actually cared that James was related to an ‘important’ demon, it should have said something to me, too,” said Lucie. “I am his sister. I do not appreciate being overlooked.”

James smiled—which, Cordelia suspected, had been Lucie’s aim. He had a perfectly lethal dimple that flashed when he smiled. Such things should be illegal.

“They’re loyal to the Blackthorn family, in their horrid sort of way,” said Lucie thoughtfully. “That’s why they wanted us not to say anything about what happened tonight.”

“Ah,” said Alastair. “Because the Clave wouldn’t look too kindly on the Blackthorns breeding a pack of Cerberus demons and letting them chase after Herondale, even though he is very irritating.”

“I told you, Benedict Lightwood’s the one that bred them,” Lucie said crossly.

“Unpleasant as all that was,” Matthew said, “there is something comforting about fighting the ordinary kind of demon under cover of darkness, rather than poisonous ones that appear during the day.”

“Oh!” said Cordelia. “That reminds me. We should tell them what Hypatia said, Matthew. That we could speak to Ragnor Fell about the demons in the park.”

Everyone started to sputter questions. Matthew held up a hand. “Yes, we spoke to Hypatia Vex at the Hell Ruelle. She said she would send Ragnor a message. It is hardly a sure thing.”

“Perhaps, but Anna was right,” said Cordelia. “We must speak to more Downworlders regardless. There was much talk of Magnus Bane—”

“Ah, Magnus Bane,” said Matthew. “My personal hero.”

“Indeed, you once described him as ‘Oscar Wilde if he had magic powers,’ ” said James.

“Magnus Bane threw a party in Spain I attended,” said Thomas. “It was a little difficult, since I did not know a soul. I got rather drunk.”

Matthew lowered the flask with a grin. “Is that when you got your tattoo?”

Lucie clapped her hands. “The boys joke about the tattoo Thomas got in Spain, but Thomas will never let me see it. Isn’t that the meanest thing you ever heard, Cordelia? I am a writer. I believe I should have the experience of studying a tattoo at close quarters.”

“I believe you shouldn’t,” said Thomas, with conviction.

“Is the problem that it is in an unmentionable place?” asked Lucie.

“No, Lucie,” said Thomas, with a hunted air.

“I’d like to see it,” said Alastair, in a surprisingly quiet voice.

Thomas hesitated, then unbuttoned the shirtsleeve of his unwounded arm, and rolled it up to his elbow. Everyone leaned forward. Against the pale skin on the inside of Thomas’s muscular arm was a gray-and-black tracery of a compass. North, south, east, and west were delineated by blades like the points of daggers, and at the heart of the compass, unfurling dark petals, was a rose.