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“Just like every other demon. Jace felt a flicker of something — boredom? — as he reached for a seraph blade. All demons were the same: all the ones that could talk, anyway. They sputtered, they denied. They claimed they knew where Valentine was. They offered gold and gems, sometimes. Once one had offered naked dancing girls. Jace had almost taken that one up on the offer. It had been a slow Saturday. And then Jace’s boredom exploded into a million pieces as the girl with the red hair stepped out from behind a pillar” — Cassandra Clare
Just like every other demon. Jace felt a flicker of something — boredom? — as he reached for a seraph blade. All demons were the same: all the ones that could talk, anyway. They sputtered, they denied. They claimed they knew where Valentine was. They offered gold and gems, sometimes. Once one had offered naked dancing girls. Jace had almost taken that one up on the offer. It had been a slow Saturday.
And then Jace’s boredom exploded into a million pieces as the girl with the red hair stepped out from behind a pillar