The rest of the page was obscured by water stains, and the back revealed nothing but a few unfamiliar symbols.
“Is there more?”
“In mine.” Jared took a journal out of his jacket and dropped it in my lap. It was smaller, black leather peeling around the edges. Loose pages were falling out of this one, too. But the handwriting was different.
Markus Lockhart
15th December 1776
Despite careful precautions, our mission has failed. We marked our skin with the demon’s seal to bind him once summoned. I inscribed the seal on the floor of the church myself. Each line had to be precise. If only we had known that one was not.
We called the demon Andras, but our strength was no match for a marquis of hell. There was no will beyond his own, his only desire to kill us and open the gates. A single error has unleashed an evil greater than all the sins of man. We were foolish to think we could control a beast so powerful, even with the aid of Anarel. Now her blood is on our hands.
“I don’t understand. Did Andras kill the angel?” I couldn’t believe I was asking the question. But the faded script, strange hand-drawn symbols, and fingerprints on the yellowed pages made the story seem plausible.
Lukas leaned against the seat, his shoulders sagging. “No one knows. We only have bits and pieces of the journals and the story. All we know is that the Legion found a way to contain Andras.”
“But once a demon gets a taste of this world, it wants more.” Jared tightened his grip on the wheel, his expression dark. “Andras is settling for revenge.”
“What about that book—the grimoire? Can’t you use it to send him back?”
“Nobody knows what happened to it,” Lukas said. “And I’m not even sure if it would be enough now. Every vengeance spirit under Andras’ influence makes him stronger. After over two hundred years, he’s a lot more powerful than he was when the Legion first summoned him.”
“You’re saying there’s no way to stop him?”
Jared shook his head. “Basically it’s damage control. The more vengeance spirits we destroy, the weaker he gets.”
I realized what they were saying. “You don’t mean the two of you—”
Lukas cut me off. “Konstantin and Markus were cousins, and they both chose blood relatives to take their places. So two people from our family have always been in the Legion. Right now, those two people are Jared and me.”
He couldn’t be serious, not after what I’d witnessed at my house. “Your parents let you exorcise ghosts? Isn’t there a minimum age requirement or something?”
“Our parents are dead.” Jared tensed, but his voice didn’t betray a hint of emotion.
My throat went dry at the sound of the word and the thought of any more dead parents. “I’m sorry. But shouldn’t someone else do it? It’s obviously dangerous.”
Jared turned down an alley flanked by warehouses with dented metal doors. “There’s no one else. It’s our job.”
“Your job?” Who talked that way? He made it sound like they were delivering pizza.
Lukas watched me with the intense blue eyes he and his brother shared. “It’s what we do, Kennedy. Our father chose Jared, and our uncle chose me. We’ve been training since we were kids.”
“Somebody has to do it.” Jared seemed almost apologetic. “If it weren’t for us, you’d be dead.”
Like my mom.
My chest tightened, and I took a trembling breath. “Stop the car.”
“What’s wrong?” Lukas asked.
I gripped the edge of the leather seat. “Please.”
“Are you gonna be sick?” Jared sounded worried as he guided the van to one side of the alley.
Lukas slid out and held the door open as I stumbled onto the filthy street. I turned my back on them and focused on the shiny puddles of water in the potholes, fighting the tears burning my eyes.
“Kennedy?” I caught a glimpse of Jared’s army jacket.
I spun around shaking. “My mom is dead because of a demon your family summoned.”
Jared took a step back as if I had slapped him. “Our family didn’t do it alone. Someone from your family was there, too.”
CHAPTER 8
Proof
I heard the words, but they felt impossible.
Someone from your family was there, too.
And there was no one to confirm or deny it. My aunt was the only family I had left. If one of our ancestors was in a secret society, my mom would never have told her. They barely spoke, and when they did, it always ended in an argument.
I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my voice steady. I didn’t want them to hear the doubt and fear building inside me. “How do you know?”
Lukas pushed past his brother, walking toward me slowly like he was approaching a frightened animal. “In every generation, there are five members of the Legion. A month ago, all five died on the same night. Exactly the same way. Our dad and uncle, your mom—”