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“State your request,” Arachne said coldly. “I will handle this. Forget the Sisters.”

“Look,” I said. “I’m sorry I turned to the Sisters over you, Arachne. I meant no disrespect. It’s just that – ”

“I have heard your reasons, Dustin Graves.” She smiled in a way that was far too saccharine, even for her. “Now. State. Your. Request. Arachne will find the answers you seek. And for a lower price, too.”

I watched her cautiously, hanging upside down on the strand of supernaturally strong silk that attached her to – seriously, where was the web even anchored?

I was brutally aware that she could move lightning quick at a moment’s notice and impale me with any one of her eight sword-like legs. In the back of my head I reminded myself that part of my new thing was to stop pissing off entities so much. Time for damage control, I guess.

“Right. Okay. The Eldest are wearing the walls of our reality thinner and thinner, and I truly think that the only chance I have in this fight is to seek patronage, from one of the entities of darkness and night.” I looked up at her, realizing that my words were sincere. “I need your help finding the Midnight Convocation.”

Arachne smiled. “Is that all? I can help you with that quite easily. But you do know the price you’ll pay for patronage, don’t you, sweetling? You understand the cost of wearing the Crown of Stars.”

I nodded, my lips pressed tightly shut. It was a hard pill to swallow, and the more I thought about it, the less I wanted to discuss it.

“And you must know that I will also extract my price. A fee, for services rendered. Not an exorbitant one, oh no. Not for our little sweetling’s sake.” She grinned. “But one that will be very difficult to pay all the same. Oh. Very difficult indeed.”

“I – what? Difficult? Just for the Convocation’s location?”

“Ah, but this is the price you must pay for breaking poor Arachne’s heart.”

I stopped the corner of my mouth from twitching as I studied her. I knew she wasn’t that hurt. She was just being vengeful. Scratch that: she was being an entity. It was all part of their nature, to be fickle, to be a little mad, a little cruel with the humans they called their playthings. But Arachne had done so much for me in the past that some part of me felt bound to fulfill her wishes.

“Fine,” I said. “Okay. I’ll take the deal.”

“Splendid!” Arachne steepled her fingers together. “Now, as for the Midnight Convocation. You must take a trip, away from Valero. That is where they will gather, on a full moon. You are amenable to a small vacation, yes?”

I was, sure. But that was convenient. Too convenient. I needed to leave the city, anyway. It made me itchy

. It made me suspicious.

“There has to be a catch,” I said. “There always is.”

“But of course there is, sweetling. The Midnight Convocation is where the lords and ladies of darkness gather, to plot and to plan, to focus their power. And among those entities is Nyx, the Greek goddess of the night.”

I squinted at her, hating where this was going. “And your price?”

Arachne smiled, her fangs like polished shards of the finest jade. “I demand a lock of her hair.”

Chapter 17

Damn it. I knew Arachne was going to milk me for all I was worth, but a lock of a goddess’s hair? Not just any goddess, either, but the Greek deity of the night. I’d never even met her, nor did I know anything about her temperament.

Was she going to hand it over willingly? Fat chance. Anyone who knows anything about magic would already be careful about going to a barber or a salon, much less willingly giving away a lock of their hair.

You can do so much damage with even just a strand: curse someone, bewitch them, bind their power, and even worse. What if Nyx refused? Did Arachne expect me to steal it right off her head?

Damn it.

I stood outside my dad’s house, my finger hovering stupidly over the doorbell even though I’d already pressed it five times in the past five minutes. He wasn’t home, that should have been so obvious.

Norman Graves might have been out for one of those poker nights he liked to have with the other guys who taught at his high school. Or maybe he was out on a date. He’d mentioned that he was giving the online dating thing the old college go, and I was happy to hear it. I missed mom – every day I missed her – and dad did, too. But he deserved to be happy.

I got on my haunches, digging through my backpack to find a loose scrap of paper, anything to write a note I could slip under his door. Nothing. Vanitas grunted moodily when I knocked him aside by accident. I looked back up at the darkened house.

Maybe I could shadowstep in, then leave a message when I got inside. I threw my hands up. Fuck it, I could just text him, right? He’d be mad that I didn’t personally say goodbye before I left Valero, but hey, he was the one out on a theoretical hot date with my hypothetical future stepmom.

I shrugged on my backpack, pivoted on my heel, then stepped off the front porch, watching dad’s front lawn and trying to figure out the best patch of shadow I might use to enter the Dark Room. I was done for the night. I’d given Carver a call, told him that I knew where to head for the Convocation, and within minutes he’d made the decision to send Gil and Sterling to come along with me. I wasn’t about to say no. Meet them at the bus terminal, Carver said, so that was where I directed my energies as I spotted the perfect shadow and prepared to enter it.

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