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you’ve made my friggin’ day!” He clutched his stomach, wheezing. “There must be some insane treasures in that drowned city. If there aren’t, it’ll be like opening coal on Christmas. Just to clarify, the Storyteller made this happen, right?”

I nodded. “She performed a sacrificial spell, yes.”

“Then Erebus can’t even do anything about it, right? If it’s djinn magic, he can’t undo it!” Finch howled louder. “This is perfect, Raffe. Absolutely fudging perfect! I wish the Storyteller were still around, so I could shake her hand and give her a kiss for this—I’m sorry she had to die, of course, but what a way to go out! Literally liberating all of her kind. The djinn have serious guts. Ain’t that the truth, Kadar, my man?”

Kadar sprang up. “We do, though we never say no to devouring more.”

Can you not? I beseeched him, taking the reins again.

It’s not my fault if you don’t like the truth, he replied with a chuckle.

“Unfortunately, since you’re not a djinn, this confrontation doesn’t affect your predicament,” I went on.

Finch stopped laughing.

“It doesn’t affect the Levi curse, either,” Santana interjected. “Again, genuinely not bitter about it, but I’m getting sick of hearing about it being lifted. I want to move forward, knowing this is how things will be—me, Raffe, and Kadar, together. That’s why I sniped at you, Finch, which was wrong of me. It’s been an insanely long day, and people had already riled me up by telling lies before I heard your call to Raffe. Other people, who aren’t you. Still no excuse, but… well, I’m sorry.”

Finch shrugged, his humor gone. “Apology accepted. Melody’s the one who should get an earful of your wrath.”

“I’m all out,” Santana replied.

“So, the djinn launched a protest and earned their freedom, giving Erebus a bunch of grief alongside, which he may not even know about yet? Good on them. I hope it ends well. I’m cheering them on, for sure. Did you find out anything about the human servants?” Finch turned back to me, still swinging his legs.

I gripped the towel rail, my heart racing.

Tell him, Kadar demanded. He’s got a right to know.

Give me a minute! I took a shaky breath. “No human servant of Erebus has ever survived a long-term deal.”

I waited for the shocked gasp or despairing cry, but Finch sat there saying nothing. Taking that as a cue to continue, I did.

“That is, except one. The Storyteller told us that a Necromancer in Erebus’s service had saved a djinn, and in return, that djinn granted the Necromancer the ability to resurrect himself using a charmed amulet imbued with djinn magic. Considering the only way to escape an Erebus deal is death, this Necromancer died and resurrected himself, tricking his way out of servitude by cheating death… and Erebus, I guess.”

Finch started to laugh manically again, though his tone was bitter as he rocked precariously on the toilet lid. “It’s Davin, isn’t it? Go on, land that beautiful punchline.”

I nodded reluctantly. “Yes, it’s Davin.”

“That slimy boglin! That dirty, evil son of a jezebel!” Finch’s laughter cut out. Pure, savage rage replaced it. “Is there nothing he can’t squirm and cheat and lie his way out of? Death must be kicking itself, seeing that worthless dingbat return time and time again. Man, I’d take a scythe to his friggin’ neck in a heartbeat, if I thought it’d do any good! I’d use his head as a damned basketball, shooting hoops for the rest of my days.”

Santana and I exchanged a worried look while Miss Foster fled through the wall in alarm. “It means there’s hope for you, Finch,” Santana said slowly, though he clearly didn’t believe a word of her encouragement.

“Don’t you say that word to me, Santana. Hope, to me, is only a dangling carrot that I’m never going to bite off the damn rod. You hate lies so much, then don’t be a hypocrite.” His tone turned steely. “You said it yourself: I’m not a djinn. I don’t get a free pass.”

“If you could get that amulet, maybe you could do what Davin did?” Santana proceeded regardless.

“What am I, a freaking task-monkey?” Finch’s eyes bulged. “If it’s not one mission to try and spare my life, it’s another. And, guess what, there are no guarantees about what you’ve just said. It’s just another aimless wander into the unknown, probably for no payoff.”

“Finch…” I touched his arm gently.

He flinched. “Davin is a Necromancer, and he’s way craftier than I’ll ever be. He and I aren’t in the same boat. Say I go after this amulet—what if it doesn’t work? I refuse to get my hopes up again.”

“You can’t give up now.” Santana joined me on the floor and placed a hand on Finch’s leg. “That’s not who you are. There are so many people in this world who love you, and we’ll do anything to keep you alive. Even if we have to get that amulet for you. Even if we have to get a thousand amulets. You’re not giving up, Finch. Over my dead body.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “Nope, over mine. She was right. I’m going to die… All of this is only to fend off the inevitable for a while.”

“She? Who’s she?” Santana cocked her head.

“The cat’s mother,” Finch mumbled, withdrawing into himself.

“Now, you listen here, you sad-sap, and you listen good. I’m about to hit you with some home truths.” Kadar burst out, pushing me down. “Are you seriously going to let Davin and Erebus get the better of you? Are you going to lie down and play dead and let those vultures pick at your bones? I’ve watched you this last year. I don’t say this often about humans, but you’ve got more fight in you than a Marid after they’ve downed the blood of a hundred enemies. So pick yourself up, you moron, and get on with your tasks. First, the blood—put Erebus off the scent of you wanting to escape your servitude. Second, get Davin, and that amulet, and

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