“Are you telling me that someone in your family was part of the Legion?”
“The responsibility has been passed down, each member choosing a blood descendant to assume the duty at the time of their death. It’s been that way since the night our ancestors accidentally set Andras free.”
For a moment I didn’t respond. I watched them—Jared scowling at the road, Lukas with his boots on the dashboard. Neither of them looked delusional, and they definitely knew something about getting rid of vengeful spirits. But the rest of it sounded like an old family legend—a story that someone had misrepresented as history. Were their parents crazy? Conspiracy theorists who had passed on their deranged beliefs to their sons?
“Do you think the part about the demon could be a story? A way to explain why these spirits try to hurt people?”
Lukas took a leather journal out of the glove compartment. At least it looked like it had been a journal once. Now it was falling apart, scraps and torn pages slipping out from between the scratched covers. He opened it, tucking the loose pages back into their proper places, and handed it to me. “I wish it was just a story.”
The spine was broken, the ink completely streaked in some places and illegible in others. Faded script from another time stared back at me.
“Is this Latin?”
“Yeah.” Lukas pointed to the clearer print below the passage. “That’s the translation.”
Konstantin Lockhart
13th December 1776
After careful examination of the grimoire, we have selected the demon most suited to aid us in this mission. Andras, the Author of Discords, one who breeds distrust and dissension among men. In two nights’ time, we shall summon Andras, using the angel Anarel to control him, and command the beast to find the Illuminati and destroy it from within.
May the black dove always carry you.
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, with 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 of hell. 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 more 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.
“You’re saying there’s no way to stop him?”
Jared shook his head. “At this point, it’s damage control. We have to destroy the vengeance spirits Andras controls, so they can’t do his dirty work.”
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 each chose a blood relative to take their place. 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?” 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.”
My chest tightened, and I took a trembling breath. “Stop the car.”
“What’s wrong?” Lukas asked.
I gripped the edge of the seat, my nails digging into the leather. “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.”
8. PROOF
I heard the words, but they felt impossible.
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. “How do you know?”
Lukas pushed past his brother, walking toward me slowly like he was approaching a frightened animal. “There are always 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—”
Jared leaned against the side of the van, his hands shoved in his pockets. “You weren’t the only one with a psychotic cat.”
“You think this is funny?” I snapped.
“No, I didn’t mean—” Jared’s eyes dropped to the ground.
“I get that this is a lot to take in, but you need to know the truth,” Lukas said.
I only nodded.
“Our place isn’t far.” Lukas led me to the van, and I climbed in without arguing. “It’s not like you can go
