serious ass.”
Jared seemed uncomfortable. He tossed what was left of the tape into the toolbox and stood up, disappearing behind the worktable without a word. Lukas took his brother’s place on the floor next to me. They looked so much alike that it almost felt like Jared was still sitting there.
“What’s your specialty?” I asked, filling the awkward silence.
“Patterns.”
“You lost me.”
Lukas laughed, and I noticed a subtle physical difference between the two brothers. They had exactly the same intense blue eyes and long, straight lashes, but when Lukas smiled, his eyes opened up like a break in the clouds. The storm in Jared’s never parted.
“Areas with an increase in paranormal activity have certain patterns—electrical storms, severe weather fluctuations, dramatic increases in suicide and violent crime. My job is to find those patterns, which usually involves hacking into the mainframes at hospitals, news stations, and police departments.” He sounded almost apologetic. “It’s not as cool as combat and weapons, but we don’t get to pick our specialties. We inherit them from the Legion member who chooses us.”
Lukas’ eyes dropped to the ground.
“Hacking computers sounds pretty cool to me,” I said.
“When I was a kid, my dad sparred with me all the time. He even taught me how to take his guns apart and make salt rounds. I thought he wanted me to replace him. But when the time came, he picked Jared.”
I wondered if that was the source of the tension between Lukas and Jared, a father picking one son over the other. Judging by the strained expression on Lukas’ face, it was at least one reason.
“Analyzing that kind of information seems complicated. Maybe your father knew that you were better at it.”
“You sound like my dad.” He forced a smile. “It’s not all analysis. I destroy my share of vengeance spirits, too.”
“Not tonight.” A girl’s voice echoed through the room, deep and authoritative. “You need to hit the books and find the Marrow.”
A tall girl towered over us, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
“Your wish is my command,” Lukas teased. He stood up and offered me a hand. “Kennedy, this is Alara.”
She didn’t strike me as particularly friendly, wearing what resembled authentic military-issue cargo pants, a leather tool belt, and a T-shirt that read TAKE NO PRISONERS. But that wasn’t what threw me. The girl was beautiful—with long wavy hair, perfectly smooth caramel-colored skin, and dark almond-shaped eyes. The silver hoop in her eyebrow made her look even more formidable.
Alara gave me the once-over, evaluating me on criteria I probably didn’t meet. “So you’re the mysterious fifth member?”
“I’m not—”
“It was a close call,” Lukas interrupted. “We got there just in time.”
“That’s what you get for having cats.” Alara frowned at me, an expression her features settled into easily. “Do you know how many cultures have folklore about cats stealing people’s breath?”
I didn’t.
“But how often has it actually happened?” Lukas asked offhandedly. The color drained from his face immediately.
Alara raised her eyebrows. “This month? That would be five.” She ticked off our murdered family members one at a time on her fingers.
I turned to Lukas. “Why would you have a cat if you knew that was possible?”
“They can see spirits, which makes them a convenient warning system,” he said. “Up until now, the whole cats-killing-people-in-their-sleep thing was more of an urban legend.”
“You didn’t have a cat?” I asked Alara.
Her frown deepened and she touched the silver medal around her neck, bearing yet another symbol I didn’t recognize. “My grandmother was Haitian. She knew better. The cat must’ve climbed through an open window.”
The more I learned about the invisible world lurking around us, the more I wanted to be oblivious again. But it was too late for that. Until I found a way to convince these people, and a demon, that I wasn’t the fifth member of their secret exorcist society, my life was in danger.
“Wait.” Alara stared at me, eyes wide, as the realization settled over her. “Are you messing with me?”
Any answer I gave her would be the wrong one.
“She doesn’t know anything about the Legion,” Lukas said, before I had a chance to respond. “No one ever told her.”
A shudder ran through her body. “Oh my god.”
She knew what I was now—what I had been all along.
A liability.
10. THE MARROW
Lukas studied a creased US map spread over the coffee table, while everyone else flipped through a stack of newspapers on the floor. I hadn’t been at the warehouse long, and Alara’s plan to hit the books was already in full force.
I leaned over the map. “What are you looking for?”
“See this?” Lukas pointed to the red circles drawn around various cities and towns: Johnstown, Pennsylvania; Salem, West Virginia; Sugarcreek, Ohio; Wilmington, Delaware; Washington, DC. “I tracked paranormal surges over the last month and all these places had serious activity. We were looking for you, but I realized there was a pattern based on the other cities we checked first.”
It never occurred to me that they had looked anywhere else. “How did you figure out where I lived?”
“Hacked into local police servers and cross-referenced the cities with surges against death records. I looked for kids about our age that had parents who died the same night as the other members of the Legion. Then we took a road trip.”
I couldn’t believe they had worked so hard to find me. “What about school?”
Priest glanced up from the newspaper, headphones covering his ears. “Homeschooled. The public education system in Northern California wasn’t equipped to meet my needs.”
Jared shrugged. “We didn’t live in the best neighborhood in Philadelphia. No one really cared if you showed up at school. We traveled with our dad a lot, so we weren’t there much anyway.”
Alara ripped an article out of the newspaper in her lap. “I just bailed. Girls’ school sucks.”
With her combat boots, eyebrow ring, and chipped silver nail polish, she looked more like art school material. My hand itched at the thought of drawing.
Lukas traced the perimeter of the circled cities with his finger. “I think the Marrow might be somewhere in here.”
“What’s the Marrow?”
“It’s the location of Andras’ power supply in our world. Sort of like his personal supernatural power plant,” he explained. “Demons gain strength by taking control of human souls—either temporarily while we’re alive, or permanently after we die. The more souls they control, the more powerful they become.”
Priest jumped in. “But Andras is trapped between his world and ours. He can’t cross over and possess people, or draft them into his ranks when they die. He has to settle for influencing vengeance spirits and using them to cause violence and suffering.”
“Which creates more vengeance spirits he can control,” Lukas added.
I imagined hundreds of battered souls like the girl in my bedroom lined up in a row, ready for battle.
Priest unscrewed the faceplate on a device that resembled an old transistor radio. “The bigger the surges
