Unmarked (7 page)

“Where’s Alex now?” Elle asked.

“I’m not sure.” Faith gave her a strange look and rushed past us.

Bear trailed after her, unfazed.

The hallway spilled into a great room, where a fireplace crackled in the corner and a sweet floral scent drifted from the kitchen.

Alara eyed the room suspiciously. “This place doesn’t look like it belongs to someone who tapes trash bags over their windows.”

The same thought crossed my mind, until I saw the rest of the room.

Stacks of canvases depicting apocalyptic scenes leaned against the walls—cavernous holes torn in the ground with hands reaching up from inside them; a guy chained in a cell, with a strange symbol drawn on his back; people being dragged through the streets by metal collars around their necks. The images looked like they were straight out of Dante’s
Inferno
or one of Hieronymus Bosch’s paintings of hell.

Haunting portraits of spirits with pallid skin and angry eyes were lined up alongside more disturbing paintings of figures with flat, pupil-less black eyes. Faith emerged from the kitchen, her attention shifting nervously between the six of us and the paintings.

I approached one of the larger canvases. A figure writhed in pain behind the bars of a cell. Steam or smoke rose from his body. “You paint? Me too.”

Faith glanced at the image, then looked away as if she couldn’t stand the sight of it. “Hopefully, your work is nothing like mine.”

Priest stood in front of an
Inferno
-style piece. “You’ve seen some of this stuff, haven’t you?”

“Most of them are only nightmares.” My aunt leaned against a tall painting and used her weight to slide it down the wall. The canvas moved, revealing a bookcase behind it.

“And the others?” I asked.

“Things you should pray you never see,” Faith said, pulling books off the shelves two and three at a time, until she found what she was looking for—a brass doorknob attached to the back of a shelf. She turned the knob and the bookcase opened like a door.

The closet behind it was packed from floor to ceiling with what looked like disaster supplies.

“Your aunt is officially crazy,” Elle whispered.

Faith tossed duct tape, rope, batteries, and ammo onto the floor behind her. Once she had cleared a few feet of space, she struggled to drag out a huge burlap sack.

“Need a hand?” Lukas walked toward her, and Bear growled. Lukas stepped back, his hands raised. “Relax, Cujo.”

My aunt snapped her fingers and the Doberman loped down the hall and stood guard at the front door. Faith ripped the string across the top of the sack, and rock salt spilled onto the floor. She used a plastic milk jug with the top cut off as a scoop and raced through the house pouring salt lines along the windows and doors, which were already heavily salted.

“I’m sorry about your mother. But you shouldn’t have come here.”

“If you tell us what’s going on, maybe we can help,” Alara said in the even tone she usually reserved for volatile spirits.

Faith slid a rubber band from a yellowed newspaper and gathered her hair in a ponytail with it. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“I’m pretty sure we will.” Priest scooped a fistful of salt from the sack and pulled up his sleeve. He rubbed the crystals over his wrist and lines carved themselves into his skin.

Faith watched in awe as the cuts formed one-fifth of Andras’ seal. The original Legion members had used the seal to summon him, and each of them had branded a section of the symbol into his skin, in an attempt to bind the demon.

Jared, Lukas, and Alara dusted their own wrists with salt. One by one, their marks appeared, each forming another part of the seal.

I stared at my boots and counted the scratches on the toes, anything to distract myself from the envy I hated myself for feeling.

Faith gasped and turned to Elle and me.

I didn’t give her a chance to ask the question. “If we’re right about who you are, then you know I don’t have a mark.”

Elle threw up her hands. “Don’t look at me. I don’t have any demon tattoos. I’m just here to make sure my best friend doesn’t get herself killed.”

My aunt turned back to the real Legion members. “I’ve never seen the marks together before.”

“Wanna see all five?” Priest asked.

Faith held her wrist over the sack and rubbed it with salt. Lines carved themselves into her skin, revealing the final section of Andras’ seal.

I had imagined holding my wrist where Faith’s was now—being the missing piece of the Legion puzzle and the person to finally complete it.

When the demon’s seal faded, Priest brushed off his wrist. “Now that we know we’re all on the same side, I’m Priest. It’s my name, not my occupation.”

Lukas didn’t bother with formalities. “I’m Lukas, and this is my brother, Jared. You’re not an easy person to find.”

Faith stared at them like she was just now registering that they were identical twins. Then she switched back into survival mode, digging through a box full of flashlights
and changing the batteries at a dizzying speed. “That’s the idea, Lukas.”

Jared took an extra screwdriver from the toolbox and helped her. “Miss Madigan, right?”

“Just Faith.”

“Think you can take a break?” Alara asked. “We came a long way to talk to you.”

“And you would be?”

“
Just
Alara.”

Elle waved. “Hi. I’m Elle.”

I took a deep breath. Telling her my name made the fact that I was standing in front of my father’s sister feel real. “I’m—”

“Kennedy.” She stopped digging through the box. “I was there the day you were born.”

For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. How many times had she seen me before? Were she and my mom close? “I have a picture of my dad and me in front of this house. But I don’t remember you.”

“You were young the last time I saw you. Maybe five or six.”

“Five. I was five.” Certain things stay with you, like how old you were the last time you saw your father. “Why haven’t I seen you since?”

Faith hauled a box of batteries out of the closet. “I was in hiding, and your father had—”

“Ditched me by then.”

Faith’s expression clouded over. “Alex did what he had to do.”

Tears pricked my eyes, but my aunt had already gone back to whatever it was she was doing.

Lukas noticed my reaction and jumped in. “We didn’t come here to fill out the missing branches of Kennedy’s family tree. There’s something you need to know. Except for you, we’re all that’s left of the Legion.”

“The other four—our family members—all died on the same night two months ago,” Alara added.

“And my mom,” I said.

“Why Elizabeth? Kennedy’s mother wasn’t part of the Legion.” Faith emphasized every word as though the idea was unthinkable.

“The demon made a mistake,” Lukas said, covering for his brother.

Jared stared at his hands. No one except Lukas and I knew that Jared’s innocent search for the Legion members had led Andras right to their doors. Any mention of our dead family members seemed physically painful for him.

After what I’d done, I finally understood the weight of that kind of guilt. The way one mistake could feel like ten thousand. I carried that feeling with me every minute of every day.

Priest pulled at the strings of his hoodie. “It was an execution. And Andras’ vengeance spirits have been hunting us ever since.”

“That’s why we came,” I said. “We need your help.”

Faith looked back at us. “You don’t know what you’re up against. This is a fight you can’t win. Split up and disappear like I did. Before it’s too late.”

“It’s already too late.” I let the truth spill out before I could change my mind. “Andras is free.”

She shook her head, dismissing the idea. “It’s easy to mistake a demonic entity for the demon himself. Andras can’t break free from the prison holding him. It’s not easy to explain, but there are safeguards in place.”

“You mean the Shift?” Priest took out his journal and flipped to the diagram.

Faith stepped closer. “I’ve never seen it before, only a piece.”

“The one you gave Darien Shears?” Lukas asked.

She turned around slowly. “Where did you hear that name?”

“From Darien’s spirit. We had a little run-in with him at the prison.” Alara studied my aunt, measuring her reaction. “He told us a woman gave him the cylinder—the last piece of the Shift—and asked him to keep it safe.”

“Shears said it was his chance at redemption,” Lukas said.

My aunt stared at them in shock.

“You and my grandmother were the only women in the Legion,” Alara said. “You’re the woman who gave him the cylinder, aren’t you?”

“There’s no way you would know about that unless you found it.” Her eyes went wild. “Where is it? You have no idea what that device can do.”

I didn’t want to tell her the next part.

“I assembled it.”

T
hen Andras is free.” Faith slumped against the wall, her shoulders sagging. “And the clock is ticking.”

“Until what?” Priest asked when she started to turn away.

“Andras opens the gates and invites the rest of the demons to his party up here.” Faith stifled a bitter laugh.

“How do we stop him?” Jared asked.

She took a deep breath and rubbed her neck. “Andras isn’t some vengeance spirit you can destroy with salt rounds. He is a marquis of hell. The incarnation of evil. He’s everywhere and nowhere, and he
will
find us.”

“With all five members of the Legion, we stand a chance,” Priest said.

Faith gave him a strange look. “You honestly believe I even the odds against a demon?”

Lukas slipped his journal out of his jacket pocket. “My dad always talked about how much stronger the Legion would be if all five members were together.”

She shook her head. “And you think that means we have some kind of superpowers?”

“Of course not.” Lukas frowned.

Faith sighed. “When the Legion members are together, they
can
raise a protective barrier. Priests used grimoiric magic and seals to protect themselves from evil for centuries. The barrier is an extension of that principle, but it can’t help us hurt Andras. It keeps him from hurting us.”

“That’s it?” Priest picked at the silver duct tape on his headphones. “The five of us get together and it makes what—a force field?”

“I’m sorry you thought it meant something else. But we aren’t talking about catching a stray dog and dropping it off at the pound.” Faith stopped pacing and looked him in the eye. “Do you know your Legion history? What happened the night our ancestors in the Legion summoned Andras?”

“Markus Lockhart drew the Devil’s Trap. But he screwed it up, and they lost control of Andras.” Priest sounded like he was tired of recounting the story. “We
know everything except the part about what happened to the angel.”

My aunt stiffened. “Your families certainly didn’t tell you much.”

Alara hooked a thumb under the edge of her leather tool belt. “Then why don’t you fill us in?”

Faith slipped back inside the hidden closet behind the bookshelf and came out carrying a brown leather-bound book embossed in gold.

“Is that your journal?” Alara sounded hopeful.

Faith dismissed the possibility with a wave of her hand. “Of course not. Someone who’s been running as long as I have knows better than to keep anything irreplaceable with them. This book belonged to my father. The journal he inherited was in terrible condition, so he transcribed the older entries into this book. He died before he finished, but he did transcribe the most important entry—the one from the night Andras was summoned.”

Priest’s eyes widened, and Alara looked like she was holding her breath. The story none of them knew—the missing puzzle pieces—were written on the pages in my aunt’s hand.

“What exactly were you told?” Faith asked.

“My journal has an entry about the plan.” Lukas held it up.

Jared shoved his hands in his pockets. “The one in mine was written after everything went bad. A lot of stuff
about unleashing the beast and Markus taking the blame for whatever happened to the angel. He said her blood was on their hands.”

“Which makes it sound like she died that night,” Alara said.

Elle gave her a strange look. “Angels can’t die.”

“How do you know? Have you ever met one?” Alara shot back.

Faith rested the book on one of the taller stacks so we could see it. “You should read it for yourselves. There’s nothing more dangerous than going to war without knowing your enemy.”

I closed the book and handed it back to my aunt. “Thanks for letting us read it.”

“Unfortunately, that isn’t the end of the story.” Faith paced in front of us, stopping in exactly the same spot each time before she turned and followed the path back in the opposite direction.

“OCD much?” Elle whispered.

“The Legion went back to the Vatican that night. But when the pope learned they had lost control of Andras and failed to deliver the Illuminati members, he deemed them enemies of the Church. As excommunicated priests, the Legion members were well versed in the way the Church dealt with its enemies. So they fled through the tunnels under Vatican City. But they didn’t leave empty-handed. They took the
Diario di Demoni
—the private journals of the Vatican’s exorcists.”

“Exorcism records?” Alara asked. “Seems like a weird choice.”

“Not weird. Smart.” Faith paced faster. “No one knew more about demons than the Catholic Church’s exorcists, and the
Demoni
was filled with their firsthand accounts.”

“Were they trying to exorcise Andreas?” Elle asked.

My aunt scowled at her.

“It’s Andras,” Lukas whispered.

Elle rolled her eyes. “Whatever. It’s not like he’s here to be offended.”

Faith waited to make sure Elle didn’t have any more
stupid questions, and then she continued. “
The Art of War
: ‘To know your Enemy, you must become your Enemy.’ If you want to destroy a demon, you have to know everything about them. According to the
Diario di Demoni
, demons don’t want to live in hell any more than we do. They like it here.”

Lukas shook his head. “More good news.”

My aunt ignored him, lost in her own manic train of thought. “But when demons cross over, they aren’t strong enough to take their true forms.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Priest said under his breath.

“Until they consume enough souls to regain their strength, demons need human bodies to possess.”

“Consume?” Elle winced as she said it.

“Demons feed off violence, so they entice people to kill or brutalize each other. If a person racks up enough sin, when they die—or kill themselves, which is often the case when the devil’s soldiers are involved—the demon consumes their soul.”

I thought about the Boy Scouts leader who had killed his troop and the fireman who set his neighbors’ homes on fire. In the past nineteen days, most of the mass murderers ended up killing themselves.

Faith glanced at the canvases in the next room. “If Andras opens the gates of hell, the people whose souls the demons don’t consume, or whose bodies they don’t use as
temporary housing, will be enslaved or tortured for their amusement.”

I pictured my nightmares and the images in Faith’s paintings. “Our world will become the new hell.”

Jared’s expression hardened. “I’m not okay with that.”

“Unless you have a magic wand or the Vessel, you won’t have a say in the matter,” Faith said. “The Vessel is the only prison that can hold Andras.”

“Where do we find this Vessel?” I asked.

No one had ever mentioned it before, which seemed strange. Jared, Lukas, Priest, and Alara listened, waiting for her answer.

My aunt stared at us like we were idiots. “No idea. You’re the ones who lost it.”

“She’s talking about the Shift,” Priest said.

Faith nodded. “And without it, there’s no way to stop Andras.”

Lukas stepped in front of Faith before she could start pacing again. “How do we keep him from opening the gates?”

She stared at him for a long moment, sadness passing over the green eyes that looked so much like my father’s. “Once he gets strong enough, you can’t.”