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air in a tight vertical roll, like she was drilling her way to the other side. Her body was in a tight rotation, like a football spirals in the air. She landed on the opposite platform, next to Cecile.

“Did you do that?” Lara shouted to her.

Cecile shook her head. “No. You did.”

And Lara wanted to do it again, needed to do it again so badly that she immediately leapt off and spiraled to the other side, but then she slowed and hovered and began doing graceful spins, like water ballet in the air. A powerful feeling overtook her. Nothing in her life had ever felt as perfect as performing magic like this. Fuck a correction. Her magic didn’t need to be hidden or contained. As it flowed, she felt herself becoming stronger. This power had always been inside her, but she’d never been encouraged to use it, so like an undeveloped muscle it had withered—she had withered. Until now.

Then Cecile dove off the swing like she was diving into a pool and flew like a bird down to the ground, where she landed softly.

“Now you try it,” she said, calling up to Lara.

Lara hesitated, but Cecile held out her hand. “I won’t let anything happen to you, but you need to learn how to do this.” Cecile smiled but her voice was firm. “Come.”

What the hell, thought Lara. So she dove off the platform, thinking no as she fell. No, she would not fall. Lara dropped more like a leaf than like the purposeful dive Cecile had demonstrated. She landed a little two-footed, but Althacazur was very happy.

Still, it was Cecile whose approval Lara wanted most. The woman walked over and embraced her. “You were wonderful. I wasn’t as good my first time.” Lara’s legs were shaking, but she could feel the magic flowing through her like a current. She spun to face Althacazur. He had been right. This had been her destiny. There was a smile forming on his lips. He had lured her here with the promise of answers. Now she had them—Todd, Cecile, and what she really was.

Then, with a sweep of his hand, the performers were gone.

Althacazur sighed. “Can we discuss a little business now? I need Esmé here where she belongs. Lucifer is growing impatient.”

“But I don’t understand. You’re the daemon of really cool shit. Why can’t you bring your own daughter back into the circus? Why do you need anyone’s help?”

“Because he can’t.” It was Cecile who spoke; Althacazur looked shocked. “He’s never admitted it, but by seducing our mother and having us, he’d already caught the ire of the other daemons. It is forbidden, but he was the favorite, so Lucifer let it pass. But when he sent Esmé to the White Forest, it was Lucifer who found her and sent her back.” She pointed her comments to Althacazur. “After she returned, your behavior toward her changed. It’s my guess that you can’t touch her now, can you?”

“You’ve gotten wise in your death, Cecile.” Althacazur exhaled like he was defeated. “After what she endured in the White Forest, Lucifer won’t let me touch her. He blames me, rightfully so, for banishing her in what was a rather harsh punishment, but he’s putting me in an awkward position. The daemons are clamoring to destroy her because she’s a cambion. They think she’s cocky and too powerful. I don’t want to see my daughter destroyed, but I can’t help her directly.”

“I don’t want to help her,” Lara snorted.

“No, you just want to live your life free of her. I want her here again, so in essence we want the same things. Even if I could lift a hand, there’s pride in the daemon community. She struck Cecile first by killing Émile. It needs to be Cecile—or her proxy—that strikes back. I’ve helped as much as I can to build the perfect proxy. More than you know.”

“It sounds a bit like the mafia,” quipped Lara, wiping some dust or chalk off her hands and onto her thighs. “Well, I’m done chanting protection spells and hiding in Kerrigan Falls. If you need me to bring her here, I’ll do it. I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“That’s my girl!” Althacazur clapped his hands. “Only problem is that you can’t tangle with Esmé alone. Oh, granted you’re a clever little thing turning the lights on and off—and that marvelous little bit of business you did with the trapeze artist at Rivoli was inspiring, not to mention what you did just now. I’ve built you well and I bet you’re feeling quite powerful about now, but you’re no match for a hundred-year-old child of a major daemon. So let me propose a little deal for you. Take Great-Grandmother with you, so you have a fighting chance.”

At this suggestion, Lara could see Cecile shift, disturbed. Althacazur had not consulted her on this strategy. “This is not why I wanted Lara to come here.”

Althacazur laughed. “So what did you think? You just tell her all about Esmé and she’d go back to her little town and vanquish your sister? Surely you see that is a fool’s errand, Cecile. She can’t do that. Only you can do that.”

“But I can’t leave here, Father. I’m dead.”

“But she’s not. And you—” He turned to Lara. “Esmé is like a cat with a toy. She knows that the daemons want her back here and that I’ve been looking for someone to wrangle her. That person is you, Lara, and she knows it. Like a feral cat, she won’t take the chance of getting caught. When you get back to that dreadful little place where you live, she’ll kill you for sure, along with your mother and the rather handsome police detective you’re so fond of.”

“No.” Cecile shook her head. “It’s too risky.”

“What does it involve?” Lara looked at Cecile. Lara’s head was swimming with everything she’d learned today. She felt both broken by the news of Todd—and yet powerfully strong as magic pulsed through her veins, the

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