Jared slid the paper across the table. “Have you ever seen this?”
[ART TO COME]
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.”
Now the demon has a name?
Jared reached for the page, and his hand grazed mine. He yanked it away like he was allergic to human contact, shoving his hands deeper 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 for the Catholic Church, and the Illuminati wanted to destroy it.”
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?”
The one I don’t know if I believe in? The one that’s trying to kill me?
“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 this guy 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.”
Angels? Summoning demons?
I stared back at him, speechless.
Lukas seemed to sense my shock. He 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 might sound unbelievable?” I stood up and leaned against the refrigerator behind me, the bite of cold metal spreading across my back. “Which part? The fact that demons exist or that one’s trying to kill me?”
“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.
“There’s a storm warning—”
“—electrical storms tearing across the sky—”
“—three deaths reported—”
“—killed tragically—”
“—looking for salvation—”
Finally, it stopped on an Alice in Chains track, a single line repeating slowly over the crackle of static.
“Ain’t found a way to kill me yet—”
The cord dangled from the counter.
Unplugged.
“Ain’t found a way to kill me yet—”
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.
“Ain’t found a way to kill me yet—”
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.
“Ain’t found a way to kill me yet—”
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!”
Ain’t found a way to kill me yet—
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.
The second knife landed next to me, with the clipped sound of metal against metal as it hit the fridge.
Someone grabbed me around the waist and hauled me out of the kitchen. I wiped my eyes, hot water trailing down my neck. I caught a glimpse of his army jacket and realized it was Jared. He was soaked, water running down his face, a single-minded focus propelling him forward. Jared’s hand locked on my hip, his fingers pressing against me, as if nothing could break that hold.
Lukas was at the front door, yanking on the handle. “It won’t open.”
I glanced through the kitchen doorway. The remaining ten knives drew themselves from the block one by one and lined up in the air.
There was no way we could dodge that many.
“Get out of the way.” Jared released me and pushed his brother aside. He pulled the duct tape-covered gun out of his jacket, firing three shots at the base of the door. Steam poured from holes where the salt rounds gouged the wood.
He looked at Lukas, already backing up. “We have to break it down.”
I threw my body against the door alongside theirs. The wood buckled beneath us, and I heard a crack.
The ground rose up to meet me, my body colliding with the concrete as I skidded across the front walk. Forcing myself onto bloody hands and knees, I searched for something to anchor me until the world stopped spinning.
I turned back to my house. Lights flashed on and off inside like an insidious form of Morse code.
“Kennedy.” Fear and panic warred in Jared’s eyes. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up. “We have to get to the van.”
Lukas was already halfway there.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the house as I ran. It was alive—breathing, consuming, destroying. The kitchen windows exploded, spra
ying glass all over the sidewalk.
Jared yanked the van door open and shoved me across the bench seat toward Lukas. The air in front of the house started to move like the tide pulling back from the shore—sucking broken glass, splintered wood, and dirt up the sidewalk and into its jaws, as the house took one long, devastating breath.
“Look what it’s doing.” Lukas’ eyes widened.
The supernatural force pulling everything in suddenly stopped, and the air in the front hall started to churn like a tiny cyclone. I saw our welcome mat and one of my sneakers caught in the brown whirlwind.
Inside, the lights flickered faster and faster.
Lukas glanced from Jared to the house. “Hurry up.”