Jem raised his hand, and his witchlight flared into life, frightening a group of blackbeetles. They scurried across the floor, causing Will to grimace. “Nice place to live, isn’t it? Let’s hope they left something behind other than filth. Forwarding addresses, a few severed limbs, a prostitute or two…”
“Indeed. Perhaps, if we’re fortunate, we can still catch syphilis.”
“Or demon pox,” Will suggested cheerfully, trying the door under the stairs. It swung open, unlocked as the front door had been. “There’s always demon pox.”
“Demon pox does not exist.”
“Oh ye of little faith,” said Will, disappearing into the darkness under the stairs.

Author: Cassandra Clare