CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
REBECCA
Asmodeus's eyebrows shot up. "What was that?"
Isabelle seemed to catch on before anyone else. She paled and said, "No, Simon, no!" but Simon went on, his back straight, his chin lifted.
"I also have an immortal life," he said. "Magnus isn't the only one. Take mine; take my immortality."
"Ahhhh," breathed Asmodeus, his eyes suddenly shining. "Azazel told me of you. A vampire is not interesting, but a Daylighter! You carry the power of the world's sun in your veins. Sunlight and eternal life, that is a power indeed."
"Yes," Simon said. "If you'll take my immortality instead of Magnus's, then I give it to you. I am-"
"Simon!" Clary said, but it was already too late.
"I am willing," he finished, and with a glance around at the rest of the group, he set his jaw, with a look that said, I've said it. It's done.
"God, Simon, no," said Magnus, in a voice of terrible sadness, and he closed his eyes.
"I'm only seventeen," Simon said. "If he takes my immortality, I'll live out my life- I won't die here. I never wanted immortality, I never wanted to be a vampire, I never wanted any of it."
Isabelle opened her mouth, but she seemed to be lost for words.
"It's settled then," Asmodeus said gleefully. "But there is one more thing I want from you. One more item to sweeten the deal." He grinned, and his teeth glimmered like sharp crystals.
"What?" Magnus's voice shook. "What is it you want?"
"His memories," said Asmodeus.
"Azazel took a memory from each of us, as payment for a favor," Alec said. "What is it with you demons and memories?"
"Human memories, freely given, are like food to us," said Asmodeus. "Demons live on the cries and agony of the damned in torment. Imagine then, how nice a change of pace a feast of happy memories is. Mixed together, they are delicious, the sour and the sweet." He looked around, his cat's eyes glittering. "And I can already tell there will be many happy memories to take, little vampire, for you are much loved, are you not?"
Simon looked strained. He said, "But if you take my memories, who will I be? I don't-"
"Well," said Asmodeus. "I could take every memory you have and leave you a drooling idiot, I suppose, but really, who wants the memories of a baby? Dull, dull. The question is, what would be the most fun? Memories are delicious, but so is pain. What would cause the most pain to your friends, here? What would remind them to fear the power and the wit of demons?" He clasped his hands behind his back.
"I promised my immortality," Simon said. "Not my memories. You said 'freely given'-"
"God in Hell, the banality," said Asmodeus. "Do you want to go back or not?" He yelled the last word, anger crossing his face like a bolt of lightning. He seized Simon's forearm. Instantly, Rebecca's sword was in her hand, as were Jace's and Isabelle's.
"Let him go," Jace said. "He is ours, not yours; the Nephilim protect what belongs to us-"
"No!" Simon said. He was shivering all over, but his back was straight. "Jace, don't. This is the only way."
"Indeed it is," said Asmodeus. "For none of you can fight a Prince of Hell in his place of power; not even you, Jace Herondale, child of angels, or you, Clarissa Fairchild, with your tricks and runes. Or you, Rebecca Trueblood, even though the blood of Lilith herself flows in your veins." He moved his fingers, slightly; Jace's sword clattered to the ground, and Jace jerked his hand back, grimacing in pain as if he'd been burned. Asmodeus spared him only a glance before raising his hand again.
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