I have a fetish for damsels in distress.”
“Don’t be sexist.”
“Not at all. My services are also available to gentlemen in distress. It’s an equal opportunity fetish.

You never cared that I was your sister before.”
“Didn’t I?” His black eyes flicked up and down her. “Our father’s dead,” he said. “There are no other relatives. You and I, we are the last. The last of the Morgensterns. You are the only one left whose blood runs in my veins, too. You are my last chance.

You have ruthlessness in your bones and ice in your heart, Clarissa. Don't tell me any differently.

Well, hello there, Mother,” Sebastian said in a voice like silk. “Surprised to see me?

Why did you?” Clary asked.
“Why did I what?”
“Help me back there.”
“You’re my sister.”
She swallowed. In the morning light, Sebastian’s face had some color in it. There were faint burns along his neck where demon ichor had splashed him.
“You never cared that I was your sister before.”
“Didn’t I?” His black eyes flicked up and down her. “Our father’s dead,” he said. “There are no other relatives. You and I, we are the last. The last of the Morgensterns. You are the only one left whose blood runs in my veins, too. You are my last chance.

Really? Are you going to ask him to be your partner?" Isabelle asked. "It's like cotillion, this partners business, except with killing."
"So, exactly like a cotillion," said Simon.