I’ll save you, Paige.
I turn my attention back to the Chief, but he’s already watching me intently. He unceremoniously drops the teen he was holding. I can see what he’s going to do before he does it, but it happens too quickly for me to stop him. He’s behind Paige in a flash, an elbow hooked around her neck and one hand fisted in her hair. The rest of the humans shriek and run around the circle, looking for an escape. The sorcerers push and shove them brutally back inside. I hear a crack as fist meets bone.
“Any closer and I’ll snap her neck,” the Chief says. The calmness in his voice raises the hair on the back of my neck.
The chanting sputters to a halt, and the light above him shrinks.
“Keep going, you fools!” the Chief orders.
“Let her go!” I demand, with more confidence than I feel.
He tosses his head back and laughs. “And why would I do that?”
It comes out before I can think it through. “Because you broke my mom’s heart and you haven’t done a single thing for me since I was three and it’s all I’m asking of you.”
His laughter dies, and he pushes his mask up onto his head, narrowing his eyes on my face.
“I-Indigo?” he asks.
I fight the impulse to cross my arms, to make myself smaller. I ball my hands into fists at my sides.
He exhales, his face twisted in confusion. I can see him thinking it over, trying to decide whether or not it’s possible. I feel like I’m on an episode of a trashy daytime talk show that specializes in paternity reveals.
His grip around Paige’s neck relaxes, and she takes huge, gulping breaths. For a split second I think he’ll do it—he’ll let her go—but then something in him snaps and he snags her neck, his arm taut again.
Of course. Why would he care about me now? All that talk about family back in his office—it was just part of the ruse, to make the teenagers feel bad for him. He has no heart.
I feel a twinge inside my chest, but I refuse to believe it’s because I’m hurt. I don’t care about him. He isn’t family.
“Take me instead,” I say, changing tack. “Look.” I point to the dimming light of the portal overhead. “They’re not willing sacrifices anymore. They can see what you’re doing. My energy is worth more than a human’s. My blood is both sorcerer and witch.” I have no idea if any of what I’m saying is true, but I’m desperate.
“Indie, no,” Bishop says, grabbing my arm. I shake him off and lift my chin.
The Chief’s eyebrows raise, his jaw moving as he thinks. “Now, that is an offer I’m willing to consider.”
He shoves Paige back into the herd of teens.
“Come,” he says, beckoning me forward with his hand. His eyes are filled with a disgusting longing at the prospect of murdering his own daughter, using my blood for his dark magic.
“Indie, don’t do this,” Bishop pleads.
I take a step forward. The rest of the battle falls away as I lock eyes with my dad. Magic pours through me like lava, getting hotter and hotter until it’s unbearable to hold it in any longer. Still, I wait. My whole body feels like a flame, and I’m sure I’ve caught fire. Black clouds scud across the moon too fast to be natural; the air crackles with electricity. The heat flows down to my fingertips in a painful swell of magic dying to be released. I wait a moment longer.
And then I let it go.
The clouds break apart, and a bolt of lightning strikes the Chief. He’s lifted a foot off the ground, captured in a flash of white light, his back bent unnaturally, his eyes wide, and his mouth open in an O. And then he slumps to the ground. His ox mask is singed black and wisps of smoke curl into the air. He doesn’t move.
I did it. I killed my dad.
“Whoa,” Bishop breathes.
A violent gag chokes me, and I fall to my knees.
The place becomes absolute bedlam. A ragged crew of sorcerers keeps up with their chanting, while the rest come at me from all sides. Shouts and cries ring out through the night, fire and arrows flashing past too quickly to follow. I would be dead if it weren’t for Bishop, defending me as I heave vomit into the dirt.
I killed my dad.
But then the lights in the sky dim, then flicker, and the place goes silent. I haul myself up and look out over the hillside.
A hundred people stand along the brim of the Hollywood Bowl, looking down into the amphitheater with an eerie calm. It takes me a moment to figure out who they are. Not sorcerers—they’re all here for the ceremony. Not rebels—there are just too many of them. But who else would be in Los Demonios?
And then I put it together. The flickering light. The people with a secret entrance into this place—a portal used to shove inmates inside.
It’s the Family.
29
Everyone flees. Sorcerers and rebels alike fly in every direction, like they can’t get away from the Family fast enough. What’s left of the pitiful portal of light above the stone formation winks out completely. The humans huddle together in the circle as fires blaze all around. Two girls whimper loudly. Paige looks around dazedly.
All the while, the Family floats calmly down the mountainside toward us. I leap in front of Paige, shielding her body with my own. Bishop follows, his arms out at his sides to cover the humans. I don’t know what they want, how they found us here—all I know is that I’ll do anything to keep the teens safe.
The Family members range from fresh-faced teenagers to adults in their fifties, but they all share one thing in common: eyes so hard they lack even a glimmer of empathy.
“So you’re in charge, then?”
A man glides forward, landing lightly in the charred earth across from me and Bishop. He’s wearing one of those pinstriped suits that have a long, forked tail at the back. His sideburns are just a bit too long and pointed, and he wears his hair parted down the middle and slicked flat against his head. Despite the fact that he’s dressed like a circus trainer from the 1930s, he’s handsome. He clasps his hands behind his back, assessing me.