Page 237 of The Bonds of Indigo

“Far enough,” Yesenia says, raising her left hand. Like Amarah, her hand glows, but hers is a dull white—not radiant like my girl’s. “You know… I thought I recognized you, but fuck me, last I heard you were in prison. Didn’t take much digging to see you’d escaped. With help, apparently.” Her blue eyes flick to me, then over to Lucifer, who has since stepped to Amarah’s other side. “A Demon. Quite the entourage, Ivy.”

Rane, the girl’s brother, moves to stand over Atlas, and tension spikes through me.

“Don’t touch him,” Amarah says, stepping forward. I itch to grab her and keep her behind me, but I don’t. She’s told me not to treat her like she’s fragile, even if she is compared to me.

“He won’t,” Yesenia answers, smiling as she gestures for us to come closer. At least, that’s what I thought—until I take a step. She immediately shakes her head. “No. Just Ivy with the mirror.”

“Fuck no.” My growl echoes through the open space. “We all approach. You hand me Atlas, and she gives you the mirror.”

Her brow lifts. “Are you going back on our deal?”

Amarah gasps sharply and steps forward fast. “No! No, it’s fine.”

Through the bond, she says, “You see me, you’re close enough to get to me if they try something stupid. We can’t risk Atlas with something as trivial as a few feet.”

“Amarah… I don’t like this.”

I look over at Lucifer, who is narrowing his eyes. I assume she’s speaking through their link and telling him the same thing she’s told me. She doesn’t return to our bond and instead keeps walking the two or so dozen feet toward them.

“I’ve never seen you two before a few months ago,” Amarah says as she stops in front of the three of them. “Why do you want Verraketh?”

“Let’s have a little bit of privacy with this conversation, hmm?”

The moment those words leave Yesenia’s mouth, I’m sprinting toward them, only to slam into a wall so hard my arm snaps and I go flying backward, landing square on my ass.

Lucifer is at my side immediately, but I shake out the break in my bones and push to my feet.

Amarah turns, extending her arm. Her palm flattens, fingers splayed wide, pressing firmly against a smooth, invisible surface—her skin paling as if she’s touching glass. Her lips move, but I hear nothing. I curse.

“Fucking magic,” Lucifer spits. His shadows surge upward, wrapping around the invisible dome separating her from us. He drops them quickly; if he kept them up, we wouldn’t be able to see her—well, I wouldn’t.

She turns her back to us and screams at them before pointing toward us.

Yesenia responds, then gestures at Atlas.

Fuck this.

I go back to the barrier and slam my fist into it. Amarah doesn’t turn around, nor do the siblings glance my way.

But Atlas does.

His mouth is covered with tape, arms bound behind him against the metal chair, and his feet…

Oh Gods.

I swallow roughly.

His feet are bolted into the floor. They don’t look new, either—I can see the infection spreading up his ankles. He’s been with them for some time. If I don’t get to him, he will die.

I mouth, “I’m sorry.”

His bright eyes gloss over as he shakes his head. He jerks his chin toward Amarah, then upward.

Pinching my brows together, I look at her, then up. Nothing but turned-off fluorescent lights, metal bars, and industrial fans stare back at me. When I look at him again, his eyes are fixed on my girl.

There’s no sound, but the resolve in Atlas’s eyes is unmistakable. He shakes his head. The dried blood caked across his face cracks as he squeezes his eyes shut.

Then Amarah runs to him, ripping the cloth from his mouth. She drops the mirror without a single thought to whether it might break, and throws her arms around him.