Also by Cassandra Clare

“I want to,” he said with finality.
After a moment Emma nodded, and the strangeness was broken. Mark the faerie lapsed back into
being Mark Blackthorn, filling her in on the progress of the investigation as they headed down to join
the others. In order to keep Uncle Arthur from finding out about what had happened with Emma and
the faerie convoy, Julian had arranged for Arthur to attend a meeting with Anselm Nightshade at the
pizza place on Cross Creek Road. Nightshade had sent a car for Arthur earlier, promising they both
would return when night fell.
The rest of the family had been in the library. They had torn through piles of books in search of
information about Lady Midnight.
“Did they learn anything?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. I was just on my way to the library when Mr. Hot and Sexy showed up and said he
had information.”
“Whoa.” Emma held up her hand. “Mr. Hot and Sexy?”
“Perfect Diego,” Mark grumbled.
“Okay, look, I know you haven’t been back from Faerie all that long, but here in the human world,
Mr. Hot and Sexy is not an effective insult.”
Mark didn’t get a chance to reply; they had reached the library. The moment they went inside,
Emma was nearly knocked off her feet by a rushing figure with a determined hug—it was Livvy, who
promptly burst into tears.
“Ouuuch,” Emma said, glancing around. The whole room was covered in stacks of paper, piles of
books. “Liv, mind the bandages.”
“I can’t believe you let those faeries whip you, oh, I hate them, I hate the Courts, I’ll kill all of them
—”
“‘Let’ is maybe not the word,” Emma said. “Anyway, I’m all right. It was fine. It didn’t even hurt
that much.”
“Ooh, you liar!” said Cristina, emerging from behind a stack of books with Diego beside her.
Interesting, Emma thought. “It was very heroic, what you did, but also very stupid.”
Diego looked at Emma with serious brown eyes. “If I had known what was to happen, I would
have stayed and volunteered to be whipped myself. I am more muscular and larger than you, and I
probably could have taken it better.”
“I took it fine,” said Emma, annoyed. “But thanks for the reminder that you’re an enormous hulk. I
might have forgotten otherwise.”
“Argh! Stop it!” Cristina dissolved into a torrent of Spanish.
Emma held her hands up. “Cristina, slow down.”
“Would it help?” said Diego. “Do you speak Spanish?”
“Not much,” Emma said.
He gave a small smile. “Ah, well, in that case, she’s complimenting us.”
“I know those weren’t compliments,” Emma said, but then the door opened and it was Julian, and
suddenly everyone was deputized to help carry books and line them up on the table and sort papers.
Ty was sitting at the head of the table as if he were leading a board meeting. He didn’t smile at Emma
exactly, but gave her a sideways glance that Emma knew meant affection, and then looked back down
at what he was doing.
Emma didn’t look at Julian, no more than a glance, at least. She didn’t think she could. She was
aware of his presence as she crossed the room to the long table, though. He came and stood at Ty’s
left, looking down at his notes.