6. SINISTER LULLABY
Let me get this straight. A demon is sending these vengeance spirits to kill people?”
It was hard to believe we were having this conversation at the table where I ate my cereal every morning. It wasn’t that I’d never considered the possibility of ghosts, especially after my mom died. I wanted to imagine her out there somewhere in a better place. But a vengeance spirit possessing my cat and murdering my mom was on a completely different level. And now we were talking demons.
Lukas watched me from across the table, measuring my reactions. “The demon isn’t sending them after just anyone. He wants them to kill specific people. And you’re one of them.”
It didn’t make any sense. “Why me?”
Jared had been pacing the room like a caged animal since we came inside. He stopped and turned to his brother, a silent question passing between them. Lukas nodded, and Jared took something out of his pocket. A tattered sheet of yellowed parchment, the creases so deep it practically fell apart when he unfolded it.
Jared slid the paper across the table. “Have you ever seen this?”
A hand-drawn symbol filled the center of the page. It reminded me of a music stand with two lines curving upward, each capped with a triangle like the devil’s tail. “No.”
“Are you sure?” Jared’s eyes drilled into me.
Of course I was. A basic image composed of three continuous lines wasn’t a stretch with a memory like mine. Not that I was admitting that to them.
I studied the symbol for their benefit. “I’d remember something like that. Are you going to tell me what it is?”
“It’s a seal.” Lukas took the silver coin he’d been toying with earlier out of his pocket. It looked like a quarter, but the image was different. His fingers rose and fell in a steady rhythm as the coin rolled over them and back again. “Every demon has a unique seal, like a signature. It’s used to summon and command the demon. This one belongs to Andras.”
Jared reached for the page, and his hand grazed mine. He yanked it away like he was allergic to human contact, and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Ever heard of the Illuminati?” Lukas asked.
The name was familiar. They were one of those conspiracy groups featured on the History Channel all the time. “Like the Knights Templar?”
“They were both secret societies, but the Templars fought
I paused before asking the next question, testing out the words in my mind. There was no way to make them sound right. “What do they have to do with the demon?”
“I’ll give you the short version, but it won’t make sense unless I start at the beginning.”
I stayed quiet, encouraging Lukas to continue.
“In 1776, five guys in Bavaria formed the Illuminati. They wanted to take down the governments and churches so they could create some kind of new world order. They targeted the Catholic Church and decided that killing the pope would be a good place to start.”
“So they were insane?”
“Pretty much.” Lukas leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “The church formed a secret society of its own—the Legion of the Black Dove. Five excommunicated priests with orders to destroy the Illuminati.”
I wondered if Lukas had seen too many of those documentaries. “Why were they excommunicated?”
“Different reasons.” He gave me an awkward half-smile. “Let’s just say none of them played by the rules.”
“Five people doesn’t sound like much of a legion.”
Jared stopped pacing. “It’s a reference from the Bible. Jesus met a man who was possessed, and he commanded the demon to tell him its name. The demon said, ‘My name is Legion: for we are many.’ ” Jared’s deep voice grew quieter. “The ex-priests called themselves the Legion to remind them of what they were fighting. And of what they had to become in order to win.”
I didn’t know where they were going with this.
“But there was a problem,” Lukas said. “Since no one knew the identities of the Illuminati members, they were impossible to stop. So the Legion turned to a grimoire.”
“A what?”
He watched me for a moment before answering. “Grimoires are texts that provide instructions for communicating with angels… or summoning and commanding demons. The Legion used one to call Andras.”
I stared back at him, speechless.
Lukas walked over to the empty cabinets and rummaged around, unearthing a forgotten coffee mug. He filled it with water from the faucet and handed it to me. “I know all this might sound unbelievable—”
“You think it
“When you say it like that, it does sound kind of stupid,” Lukas said. “But it’s still true.”
Before I had a chance to respond, the radio on the counter switched on. The dial turned and the needle moved across the stations, snippets of voices and songs distorting into a single progression.
Finally, it stopped on an Alice in Chains track, a single line repeating slowly over the crackle of static.
The cord dangled from the counter.
Unplugged.
Lukas reached out his hand, urging me toward him. “Kennedy—”
The wooden cabinets began to rattle, and the faucet turned itself on full blast. Steam rose from the sink. Jared shouted something, but I couldn’t hear anything except the ominous message repeating over and over.
Something metallic glinted in my peripheral vision. A knife block sat next to the stove, directly across from the kitchen doorway. I hadn’t bothered to pack it because it weighed a ton.
The black handles of the knives were still secure in their slots. Except for one.
A steak knife hovered above the counter. It turned slowly until the blade faced Lukas. For a moment, it didn’t move.
The knife tore through the air.
“Lukas!” I screamed.
He pivoted as the blade hit the doorframe, catching the edge of his jacket.
Another knife slid out, the serrated edge skimming the wood as it pulled free.
Jared ran toward me. “Move!”
The garbage disposal whirred to life, spraying hot water from the sink all over the room. I shielded my face with one arm and reached out for Jared blindly with the other.
