Kit And Ty Quotes

He grinned, and the grin changed his face completely. Ty when he was still and expressionless had an intensity that fascinated Kit; when he was smiling, he was extraordinary.

Ah, Watson,” said Ty. “You may not yourself be luminous, but you are an extraordinary conductor of light.

You think you can’t survive without Livvy, but you can. We will go through it together.” Kit’s face was cold; he realized he was crying. “I love you, Ty. I love you.

Ty was near Kit, as he almost always was, like a magnet clicking into place.

Ty reached out and brushed Kit’s hair away from his face, an absent sort of gesture that sent a shot of something through Kit, a feeling like he’d touched a live electrical fence.

Ty: Just words I like. If I say them to myself, it makes my mind - quieter. Does it bother you? Kit: No. I was just curious what words you liked. Ty: It's not the meaning, just the sound. Glass, twin, apple, whisper, stars, crystal, shadow, lilt. Kit: Whisper would be one of mine, too. Cloud, secret, highway, hurricane, mirror, castle, thorns. Ty: Blackthorns.

Ty’s not my shadow,” said Kit crossly. “My apologies. I suppose you’re his.

Kit: Elemantary? Ty: You know, Holmes never says, "Elementary, my dear Watson", i nthe books. Kit: I swear I've seen it in the movies or maybe on TV. Ty: Who would ever want movies or TV when there are books?

He looked at the boy with the knife to his throat, the boy whose black eyelashes feathered down against his cheekbones as he glanced away from Kit, and he felt something like a shock of recognition pass through him. He thought, how beautiful.

I’d suggest we go get milk shakes or something to celebrate, but this is kind of a scary neighborhood.” “Shadowhunters don’t worry about scary neighborhoods,” said Dru. “Have you learned nothing from the way Batman’s parents died?” said Kit, feigning shock. Ty smiled. And for the first time since Livvy had died, Dru laughed.

He remembered something about darkness, about pressure and weighted blankets and silence. Though he had no idea how he was going to get hold of any of those things up on top of a building. "Tell me," Kit said. Tell me what you need. "Put your arms around me," said Ty. His hands were pale blue blurs in the air, as if Kit were looking at a time-lapsed photo. "Hold on to me." He was still rocking. After a moment, Kit put his arms around Ty, not knowing what else to do.

What's the Nephilim motto again?" "'We are dust and shadows,'" said Ty, not looking up from his book. "Some of us are very handsome dust," Jace added, as the door flew open and Clary stuck her head in. "Come to the library," she announced. "The tentacle is starting to dissolve." "You drive me wild with your sexy talk," said Jace, pulling on his gear jacket. "Adults," said Kit, with some disgust, and stalked out of the room. To Emma's amusement, Ty and Livvy were instantly on their feet, following him.

Ty: Were you running away? Kit: I was going for a walk. Ty: No, you're lying. You were running away. Kit: Why do you care what I do? Ty: I'm a Shadowhunter. We help people. Kit: Now you're lying Ty: I need you. You might be surprised to hear that.

Kit had never had any siblings, never had a mother, had only had Johnny. His father. His father who had died, and he didn't think had ever looked the way Ty looked now, as if the possibility of something happening to Livvy was enough to break him inside.

Move, Kit. I want to get a closer look at that bust.” To Kit, bust only meant one thing, but since the only breasts in the room belonged to Ty’s sister, he stepped aside with alacrity.

Kit: We could go to Baker Street. We are in London. Ty: To 221B Baker Street?

Kit burst out laughing. Ty looked even more astonished than he had when Kit had said he'd miss him. But after a second, he started to laugh too. They were both laughing, Kit doubled up over the blankets, when Magnus came into the room. He looked at the two of them and shook his head. "Bedlam," he said, and went over to the counter where the glass tubes and funnels had been set up.

Ty: All the lights and the shouting and the people. It's like broken glass in my head. Kit: What about fighting? Battles, killing demons, that must be pretty noisy and loud? Ty: Battle is different. Battle is what Shadowhunters do. Fighting is in my body, not my mind. As long as I can wear headphones...

Kit: Look, if you need me so you can arrest me for fun, I feel I should point out it's the sort of thing you can only do once. Ty: I don't want to arrest you. I want a partner. Someone who knows about crimes and people who commit them so they can help me. Kit: You want a ... wait, you've been sleeping outside my room because you want a sort of Watson for your Sherlock Holmes?

...it was as if there was something about Ty Blackthorn that reached into him and untied all the careful knots of protection holding him together. He wondered if that was what people meant when they said they felt undone.

You hated the Shadow Market in London,” Kit said. “It really bothered you. The noises, and the crowd —“ Ty’s gaze flicked down to Kit. “I’ll wear my headphones. I’ll be all right.” “…and I don’t know if we should go again so soon,” Kit added. “What if Helen and Aline get suspicious?” Ty’s gaze darkened. “Julian told me once,” he said, “that when people keep coming up with reasons not do something, it’s because they don’t want to do it. Do you not want to do this?” Ty’s voice sounded tight. The thrumming wire again, sharp with tension. Under the cotton of his shirt, his too-thin shoulders had tightened as well. The neck of his shirt was loose, the delicate line of his collarbones just visible. Kit felt a rush of tenderness toward Ty, mixed with near-panic. In other circumstances, he thought, he would just have lied. But he couldn’t lie to Ty.

Ty smiled. It was a genuine, light-up-your-face-type smile, and it made Kit remember the first time he'd met Ty.

You raised Livvy for you, not for her or anyone else. You knew the damage it might do. You only thought of yourself. I wish— I wish I’d never known you—

Jules: Shadowhunters take in Shadowhunters. It's what we do. Kit: You really think that's such a good idea? I mean, your house is pretty screwed up, what wit hyour agoraphhobic uncle and your weird brother. Jules: Ty isn't weird. Kit: I meant Mark, Ty isn't weird. He's just autistic. it's not a big deal. Back when I went to mundane school, I knew some kids who were on the spectrum. Ty has some things in common with them. Jules: What spectrum? Kit: You really don't know what I mean?

I want you with me in any way you can be. You were there with me before I was born, Livvy. Without you, I just—there’s nothing if you aren’t there.” There’s nothing if you aren’t there. Pity and despair ripped through Kit. He couldn’t hate Ty for this. But he would never mean anything to Ty and never had: That much was clear.

Altheia is Greek," Livvy said. "She was the Greek Goddess of truth," said Kit. He shurgged when they stared at him. "Ninth grade book report." Ty's mouth crooked at the corner. "Very good, Watson." "Don't call me Watson," said Kit. Ty ignored this.

Ty: Your duffelbag is probably full of things you stole from the Institute. Kit: It ... might be. What's that got to do with you, anyway? None of it's yours. Ty: I want to solve crimes. To be a detective. But nobody here cares about that sort of thing.

Ty shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'I'm different.' He didn't sound bothered, or at all upset about it. It was a fact he knew about himself and that was all. Ty had a quiet confidence Kit found to his surprise that he envied.

You want a—wait, you’ve been sleeping outside my room because you want a sort of Watson for your Sherlock Holmes?” Ty’s eyes lit up. They still moved restlessly around Kit as if he were reading him, examining him, never quite meeting Kit’s own, but that didn’t dim their glow.

Kit found himself holding Ty harder, until Ty relaxed under the tight grip of his hands; held him more tightly than he’d ever held anyone, held him as if they’d been lost in the sea of the sky, and only holding on to each other could keep them afloat above the wreckage of London.

Kit was jolted; had he looked bored? He'd been enjoying the sound of Ty's voice, lively and thoughtful.

He was overwhelmed by the desire to drop down to his knees and grab Ty’s hands, and hold him the way he had on the rooftop in London when Livvy had been hurt.

He wanted to kill anyone who would try to hurt Ty. It was a very peculiar feeling.

Ty glanced anxiously at the clock. A moment later Kit was downstairs, looking uncomfortable in a white gear jacket. Ty didn’t say anything, or even glance over at him, but the tension in his shoulders relaxed slightly.

Where’s Kit, really?” Ty said, “I keep asking, but no one will tell me.” Magnus looked up. “Kit’s all right. He’s with Tessa and Jem.” “I know,” Ty said. His voice shook. “I know, but—can I say good-bye to him? If I could just talk to him once—” “He’s already gone,” Magnus said. “He didn’t want to say good-bye to you. To anyone really, but I suspect it was mostly you.

Ty's eyes lit up. They still moved restlessly around Kit as if he were reading him, examining him, never quite meeting Kit's own, but that didn't dim their glow.

We could go to Baker Street,” Kit said, without even knowing he was going to say it. “We are in London.” Ty looked up at that, his gray eyes aglow. “To 221B Baker Street?

I swear I’ve seen it in the movies,” Kit said. “Or maybe on TV.” “Who would ever want movies or TV when there are books?” said Ty with disdain.

Ty stood at the water’s edge. He wouldn’t have wanted to be close to the noise and the lights and shouting, and Kit hated that even now he wanted to go down to the beach and draw Ty away, to protect him from anything and everything that might upset him.

The moon came out from behind the cloud then, just as the door behind Kit and Ty flew open, and the Shadowhunters poured out. Several of the Centurions carried witchlights: The night lit up, and Kit saw the things coming up the road, spilling onto the grass. They clamored toward the Institute, and on the porch the Shadowhunters raised their weapons.

What about the Clave?” said Ty. “Have you talked to the Clave?” “Are they ever useful?” Kit muttered under his breath.

The Council?” said Kit. “How are they different from the Clave?” Livvy laughed harder. “I can see how your case might not be successful,” said Ty. “Though I suppose we could tutor you a bit.” “A bit?” said Kit. Ty smiled his rare, dazzling smile. “A bit.

What’s the Nephilim motto again?” “ ‘We are dust and shadows,’ ” said Ty, not looking up from his book. “Some of us are very handsome dust,” Jace added

Ty and Livvy were the last to come say good-bye to Jules; Livvy embraced him fiercely, and Ty gave him a soft, shy smile. Julian wondered where Kit was. He'd been glued to Ty's and Livvy's sides the whole time they'd been in London, but he appeared to have vanished for the family farewell. "I've got something for you," Ty said. He held out a box, which Julian took with some surprise. Ty was absolutely punctual about Christmas and birthday presents, but he rarely gave gifs spontaneously. Curious, Julian popped open the top of the box to find a set of colored pencils. He didn't know the brand, but they looked pristine and unused. "Where did you get these?" "Fleet Street," said Ty. "I went out early this morning." An ache of love pressed against the back of Julian's throat. It reminded him of when Ty was a baby, serious and quiet. He hadn't been able to go to sleep for a long time without someone holding him, and though Julian had been very small himself, he remembered holding Ty while he fell asleep, all round wrists and straight black hair and long lashes. He'd felt so much love for his brother even then it had been like an explosion in his heart. "Thanks. I've missed drawing," Julian said, and tucked the box into his duffel bag. He didn't fuss; Ty didn't like fuss, but Julian made his tone as warm as he could, and Ty beamed. Jules thought of Livvy, the night before, the way she'd kissed his forehead. Her thank-you. This was Ty's.

It was like holding a loosed arrow: Ty felt hot and sharp in his arms, and he was vibrating with some strange emotion. After what felt like a long time he relaxed slightly. His hands touched Kit, their motion slowing, his fingers winding themselves into Kit’s sweater.

Ty was silent, and in that silence, Kit thought of Ty's headphones, the music in his ears, the whispered words, the way he touched things with such total concentration: smooth stones, rough glass, silk and leather and textured linen. There were people in the world, he knew, who thought human beings like Ty did those things for no reason - because they were inexplicable. Broken. Kit felt a wash of rage go through him. How could they not understand everything Ty did had a reason? If an ambulance siren blared in your ears, you covered them. If something hit you, you doubled up to protect yourself from hurt. But not everyone felt and heard exactly the same way. Ty heard everything twice as loud and fast as everyone else. The headphones and the music, Kit sensed, were a buffer: They deadened not just other noises, but also feelings that would otherwise be too intense. They protected him from hurt. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to live so intensely, to feel things so much, to have the world sway into and out of too-bright colors and too-bright noises. When every sound and feeling was jacked up to eleven, it only made sense to calm yourself by concentrating all your energy on something small that you could master - a mass of pipe cleaners to unravel, the pebbled surface of a glass between your fingers.

Don't do this. Don't raise her from the dead. But I have to, Ty said. His voice sounded stretched, like a wire pulled taught. I can't live without Livy. Yes, you can, Kit whispered. You can. You think this will make your family stronger, but it will destroy them if you bring her back. You think you can't survive without Livvy, but you can. We will go through it together. Kit's face was cold; he realized he was crying. I love you Ty. I love you.

—Pero tengo que hacerlo —insistió Ty. Su voz era como un cable tensado—. No puedo vivir sin Livvy. —Sí, sí que puedes —susurró Kit—. Sí que puedes. Crees que esto hará que tu familia sea más fuerte, pero los destruirá si la resucitas. Crees que no puedes sobrevivir sin Livvy, pero sí puedes. Lo haremos juntos. —Kit tenía frío en la cara; se dio cuenta de que estaba llorando—. Te amo, Ty. Te amo. El rostro de Ty se quedó blanco por la sorpresa. Kit siguió adelante, de todas formas, sin saber muy bien lo que estaba diciendo. —Se ha ido, Ty. Se ha ido para siempre. Tendrás que superarlo. Tu familia te ayudará. Yo te ayudaré. Pero no si haces esto. No lo hagas, Ty.

—¿Cuál es el lema de los nefilim...? —continuó Jace. —«Somos polvo y sombras» —contestó Ty sin levantar la mirada de su libro. —Aunque algunos somos una sombra muy atractiva —añadió Jace mientras la puerta se abría y Clary asomaba la cabeza. —Ven a la biblioteca —le pidió—. El tentáculo está comenzando a deshacerse. —Me vuelves loco con esa charla sexy —bromeó Jace al tiempo que se ponía la chaqueta. —Adultos... —dijo Kit con aire displicente, y salió de la habitación.

—Si haces reír a Livvy, puntúas doble —añadió Ty desde el pasillo. —Bueno, en ese caso... —Kit fue tras ellos. A fin de cuentas, ¿qué era lo que había dicho Jace? Que los Herondale nunca se resistían a un desafío.

Ty se mordió el labio. Durante un momento, Kit pensó que no iba a decirle nada. —No es el significado, solo el sonido —le explicó—. Sombra, cristal, vidrio, estrella, susurro, mellizo. —Apartó la mirada de Kit, una temblorosa silueta en una sudadera demasiado grande con el oscuro pelo absorbiendo la luz de la luna sin reflejarla. —Susurrar también es lo mío —le confesó Kit. Dio un paso hacia Ty y le tocó el hombro con suavidad—. Nube, secreto, huracán, espejo, castillo, espino. —Blackthorn —dijo Ty con una sonrisa deslumbrante, y Kit supo en ese momento que cualquier cosa que se hubiese dicho a sí mismo durante los últimos días sobre escaparse, no era más que una mentira. Y quizá era a esa mentira a la que Livvy había respondido con su actitud en el exterior de la tienda de magia; contra la semilla en el corazón de Kit que le decía que aún podría marcharse.

Ty sonrió. Una auténtica sonrisa de las que iluminaban el rostro, e hizo que Kit recordara la primera vez que se habían visto. En esa ocasión no tenía a Ty sentado encima, pero le apoyaba una daga en el cuello. Kit lo miró y se olvidó de la daga. «Hermoso», había pensado. Hermoso como los cazadores de sombras eran hermosos, como la luz de la luna reflejándose en los bordes de un cristal quebrado: encantador y letal. Cosas hermosas, cosas crueles, crueles de un modo que solo puede ser la gente que cree absolutamente que su causa es la correcta.

—Yo... —Kit se dio cuenta de que estaba sonriendo tontamente, y dejó de hacerlo. Siempre había tenido una lengua sarcástica, y nunca había aceptado bien los cumplidos, eso era como si algo en Ty Blackthorn entrara en él y le deshiciera todos los nudos de protección que con tanto cuidado había trenzado para poder vivir. Se preguntó si la gente se referiría a eso cuando decía que se sentía deshecha. Ty frunció el ceño como si no hubiera notado la estúpida sonrisa de Kit. —El problema es —continuó— que ninguno de los dos podemos conducir. No tenemos manera de llegar hasta el Mercado. —Pero tienes un móvil —dijo Kit—. De hecho, hay varios en el Instituto. Los he visto. —Claro —repuso Ty—. ¿Y qué? —Te voy a presentar una maravillosa invención llamada Uber —contestó Kit—. Te va a cambiar la vida, Ty Blackthorn. —Ah, Watson —repuso Ty mientras se metía el clip en el bolsillo—. Tal vez no seas luminoso, pero eres un extraordinario conductor de la luz.

Ty subió hasta el porche y se sentó al lado de Kit. Olía levemente al desierto, a arena y a salvia. Kit pensó en por qué le gustaba el sonido de la voz de Ty: era raro oír a alguien que disfrutara tanto sencillamente compartiendo información.

—Así que ahora está despierto todo el mundo —dijo Kit—. Supongo que eso no significa que debamos retirarnos al interior, ¿no? Ty se estaba sacando los auriculares del bolsillo y posicionaba los pies, con sus zapatillas negras, justo por encima del último escalón. —Somos cazadores de sombras —respondió—. No huimos.

—¿Sigues teniendo el... teléfono? —le preguntó Kit a Ty, y al instante se sintió como un idiota. ¿Quién se acercaba a alguien durante el funeral de su melliza para preguntarle si tenía su móvil?—. Quiero decir... no es que puedas llamar... a nadie. —Hay un teléfono en Idris que funciona. Está en la oficina de la Cónsul —repuso Ty. Él no parecía estar actuando en un vídeo musical de los ochenta; él estaba frío e impresionante y... La palabra «hermoso» le destelló a Kit en la cabeza como un cartel de neón. No le hizo caso. Elegante. Ty estaba elegante. A la gente morena seguramente le quedaba mejor el blanco.

He'd gotten dressed in the bathroom that morning and emerged to find Ty pulling his T-shirt on over his head. His marks seemed unusually black, probably because his skin was so pale. He looked so delicate -- Kit had to glance away from the shape of his shoulder blades, the fragility of his spine. How could he look like that and be strong enough to fight demons?

Not all faeries are bad," said Ty. "Some faeries are good, some are bad, like anyone," said Kit. "But that might be too complicated for the Clave." "It's too complicated for most people," Ty said.

You know, Holmes never says, 'Elementary, my dear Watson,' in the books," said Ty. "I swear I've seen it in the movies," Kit said. "Or maybe on TV." "Who would ever want movies or TV when there are books?" said Ty with disdain.

It took Kit a moment to notice that there was already someone standing in the library. Someone he didn't know, who moved toward Magnus just as the warlock eased Livvy down onto the long table. It was a young man about Jace's age, with straight dark hair that looked as if he had slept on it and not bothered to brush it. He wore a washed-out sweater and jeans. He glared at Magnus. "You woke up the kids," he said. "Alec, we have kind of an emergency here," said Magnus. So this was Alec Lightwood. Somehow Kit had expected him to look older. "Small children who are awake are also an emergency," said Alec. "I'm just saying." "All right, move the furniture back," Magnus said to Ty and Kit. "I need some working space." He glanced sideways at Alec as the two younger boys moved chairs and small bookcases out of the way. "So where are the kids?" Magnus was stripping off his coat. Alec held out his hand and caught the coat as Magnus tossed it to him, a practiced move that suggested he was used to the gesture. "I left them with a nice girl named Christina. She said she likes children." "You just left our children with strangers?" "Everyone else is asleep," said ALec. "Besides, she knows lullabies. In Spanish. Rafe is in love.

You don't know how to get into it?" Kit asked. Ty shook his head, clearly disgruntled. "It's not Shadowhunter magic. We don't learn other kinds. It's forbidden." This struck Kit as a stupid rule. How were you ever supposed to know how your enemies operated if you made it forbidden to learn about them?

silence, Kit thought of Ty’s headphones, the music in

What's the Nephlim motto again?" "'We are dust and shadows,'" said Ty, not looking up from his book. "Some of us are very handsome dust," Jace added, as the door flew open and Clary stuck her head in. "Come to the library," she announced. "The tentacle is starting to dissolve." "You drive me wild with your sexy talk," said Jace, pulling on his gear jacket. "Adults," said Kit, with some disgust, and stalked out of the room.