GENESIS: A RIGHT TO STAND (Book One) • SHADOWHUNTERS

PARABATAI

Spencer awoke hours later, her feet sore and her head disoriented. She barely remembered collapsing into bed. She wondered if anyone else had gotten any sleep. Simon and Jace probably hadn't—the hospital beds weren't the most comfortable.

    She should go visit them, Spencer thought, rolling out of bed. She glanced quickly in the mirror—her hair was a disaster, so she brushed it into a ponytail—and her eyes were smudged with mascara from the night before. She looked like a zombie, but she was sure the Shadowhunters had seen her in worse conditions.

    Yawning deeply, she opened her door and headed downstairs, towards the infirmary.

    She was walking down the hallway just before the infirmary's when she heard Alec's voice. "Because he left me behind!"

    Spencer jumped at his tone. It was full of anger and hate and—

    Jealousy. Which meant he could only be speaking to one person. She quickly ducked into the shadows next to one of the pillars.

    "Normally, I'd be with him, covering him, watching his back, keeping him safe," Alec continued with that same venomous voice. "But you—you're dead weight, a mundane."

    Even though he wasn't talking to her, Spencer still felt a stab of hurt in her chest. Is this what he really thought of her? Is this what he said behind her back, to Isabelle and Jace? Did they say anything in her defence, or did they agree with him?

    "No." Clary's voice was soft, but clear. Spencer had been right. "I'm not. I'm Nephilim—just like you."

    Alec scoffed. "Please," he said. "Spencer is more of a Shadowhunter than you." Spencer knew, after what Hodge had told her, that it was the wrong thing to say.

    "You of all people would put a mundane above me?" Clary demanded. "She will never be Nephilim, not without the Cup! I am a Shadowhunter already."

    "Maybe," Alec said. "But with no training, no nothing, you're still not much use, are you? Your mother brought you up in the mundane world, and that's where you belong. Not here, making Jace act like—like he isn't one of us. Making him break his oath to the Clave, making him break the Law—"

    "News flash," Clary said angrily, cutting him off. "I don't make Jace do anything. He does what he wants. You ought to know that."

    Spencer didn't want to hear any more, but she couldn't help it.

    "You mundanes are completely selfish, aren't you? Have you no idea he's done for you, what kind of personal risks he's taken? I'm not just talking about his safety. He could lose everything. He already lost his father and mother; do you want to make sure he loses the family he's got left as well?"

    Clary was silent. Spencer thought that Alec had maybe—definitely—gone too far. She was hurt and upset on Clary's behalf. If there was one thing Spencer hated, it was being treated like less than she was. And Alec had done that—not just to her, but to Clary and Simon as well. It incensed her, though she hid most of it.

    "You should talk about selfish." Clary's voice sent shivers down her spine. She sounded beyond angry. "You couldn't care less about anyone in this world except yourself, Alec Lightwood. No wonder you've never killed a single demon, because you're too afraid."

    Spencer's breath caught.

    "Who told you that?" Alec said, voice quavering slightly.

    "Jace," Clary hissed.

    "He wouldn't. He wouldn't say that."

    "He did," Clary replied. Spencer could hear a tinge of pleasure. "You can rant all you want about honour and honesty and how mundanes don't have any of either but if you were honest, you'd admit this tantrum is just because you're in love with him. It doesn't have anything to do with—"