Unmarked

by Kami Garcia

  Another trick.

  Priest looked up in time to see the writhing black mass coming at him. The journal slipped from his hands as the shower of snakes hit, their bodies draping over him like a net. I could tell from the terrified look on Priest’s face that he didn’t realize the snakes were an illusion.

  “They’re not real!” I shouted.

  Priest deflected the smaller serpents with his body and clutched frantically at the larger ones, hurling them away. “Get them off me! Get them off!”

  I stumbled toward him and reached for a black snake draped over Priest’s shoulder. When I touched it, my hand slipped right through and the snakes disappeared.

  “Priest. Look at me.” I grabbed his face in my hands. “The snakes aren’t real. Don’t you remember what Andras did to Maya?”

  Priest stared back at me, his expression dazed. After a moment, the fog lifted. “Kennedy? Did you see them?”

  “They were some kind of illusion,” I said, trying to reassure him.

  Priest nodded. “I kept trying to tell myself that, but it was like my mind wouldn’t listen. It was so real. I could feel them slithering all over me.” He shuddered.

  Jared, Lukas, Alara and Elle crowded around us, and the demon laughed. But shoulders sagged and his movements were slower, as if manifesting Alara and Priest’s fears had drained him. “Enough games.”

  “We can’t fight him,’ Lukas said. “He’s too strong.”

  Elle’s eyes darted to the door. “There’s no way to outrun him.”

  I have to trust Faith.

  “We can raise the barrier,” I said. “Maybe it will buy us some time.”

  Lukas held out his hand. “It’s our only shot.”

  “What about Elle?” I asked. “She can’t be part of the circle.”

  Lukas stepped behind her. “Stay in the middle and hold Kennedy’s journal so the rest of us can see it.” By now, he knew I only needed to see something once to remember every detail.

  Elle wrapped one arm around Bear. We joined hands and followed the instructions in my aunt’s journal.

  I recited the words from memory, while the other Legion members read from the page: “May the bonds of blood and the marks we bear protect us.”

  Andras laughed, but our voices remained strong.

  “As the wings of black dove carry us.”

  A surge of energy cracked against us and hurled our bodies across the floor. My cheek hit the cement, and I struggled to push myself onto my knees.

  The barrier didn’t work.

  My friends lay scattered around the room, and Andras stood in the center of it all. His sadistic expression looked frighteningly human. Faith had been right all along. This was a fight we couldn’t win.

  “From where I’m standing, these odds don’t look like even,” a male voice that didn’t belong to Andras called out. “A marquis of hell preying on a bunch of kids? Times must be tough, Andras.”

  A tall man I’d never seen before stood at the far end of the warehouse smoking a cigarette. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes. Between the cigarette hanging from his lips, his SWAT–style clothing, and the black tactical boots sticking out underneath his coat. He dropped a leather doctor’s bag and red, plastic container on the floor next to him.

  Andras stared back at him through the dockworker’s eyes. “I am happy to prey on you first.”

  A second man, dressed in matching sunglasses and tactical gear, stepped out from behind one of the metal shipping containers with a black canvas bag. Something was looped around his other hand. His dark features and a few days worth of stubble gave him an edgier appearance.

  He opened his hand, releasing what looked like a whip. He snapped the ivory-colored weapon, and it arced in the air, the individual sections clicking forward one at a time like links in a bike chain.

  The whip—or whatever it was—struck Andras. The demon arched his back and roared in pain. Andras tried to pull it off, but the whip began to move without any help from the man wielding it. The ivory sections latched onto the demon’s back, pulsing and writhing like rats.

  “It’s alive.” Priest watched in awe.

  “What the hell is it?” Lukas asked.

  Priest shook his head. “I don’t know, but I want to meet the guy who made it.”

  The man guiding the whip flicked his wrist and retracted the weapon. Andras dropped to his knees as the individual parts of the whip ripped from his back.

  Elle squinted at the jagged pieces of ivory. “Are those bones?”

  Alara recoiled. “They look like vertebrae.”

  The whip struck again, and Andras let out another enraged cry.

  “You must’ve wasted a lot of energy on whatever you were doing before we got here,” the man holding the whip said.

  I remembered how drained Andras looked after he manifested Alara’s fear. Then he brought Priest’s fear to life. Did the Rituale Romanum affect him, too? Did he have to fight it?

  The taller man in the long coat lifted the red plastic container and walked toward Andras.

  A gas can.

  “Do you think he’s gonna set Andras on fire?” Priest sounded morbidly hopeful.

  “Not unless he wants to burn up the rest of us, too.” Lukas glanced at his brother. “I’m thinking it’s not gasoline.”

  Jared nodded. “Makes sense.”

  “Why does he have a gas can?” Elle’s eyes darted between Lukas and Jared. “Will someone tell me what’s happening?”

  “Relax.” Lukas pulled her against his shoulder. “I’m guessing it’s holy water.”

  “You guess?”

  The tall man hoisted the can in the air and dumped the contents over Andras. Clear, odorless liquid splashed onto the dockworker’s body. Steam rose from the areas where the liquid hit his skin, leaving behind red burns.

  The guy with the whip rushed toward them, hooking the weapon through a loop on the back of his pants. The ivory bones, vertebrae or whatever they were, coiled through the loop like a sleeping snake. He opened a black canvas bag similar to the duffels Priest packed his gear in, and dragged out a heavy length of chain. The two men worked together, winding the chains around Andras’ neck, wrists, and feet, in a strange configuration and securing them with a padlock.

  “I will tear off your skin and strip your bones,” the demon snapped.

  “That gives me something to look forward to.” The man with the whip hauled Andras to his feet, half dragging him out of the room by the padlock. The demon bared his teeth, snapping at his captor like a rabid dog.

  “Are you all right?” The tall stranger wiped the holy water off his hands with the edge of his black coat, then removed his sunglasses and tucked them in his jacket pocket.

  “I think so,” I said.

  Priest helped Alara to her feet and examined her eyes. “You hit your head pretty hard. You might have a concussion.”

  “I’m fine.” She swatted his hand away, sounding like herself for the first time since Andras brought her nightmare to life.

  “Who the hell are you guys?” Lukas asked.

  The stranger raised an eyebrow. “A little appreciation would be nice. We did just save your lives.”

  “How did you know we were in here?” Jared asked. “This place isn’t exactly on Boston’s Freedom Trail Tour. Were you following us?”

  “We were following Andras, but it seems he was following you.”

  “How do you know about Andras?” Priest sounded shocked.

  “I’ve spent the better part of my life monitoring Andras, though I never expected to come face-to-face with him.” He extended his hand to Priest. “My name is Dimitri Falco, and that was my associate, Gabriel.”

  Priest reached out to shake his hand.

  Jared caught his arm. “Look at his ring.” A heavy signet ring encircled Dimitri’s finger. A triangle with an eye on top, like the one on the back of a dollar bill, was engraved in the silver; and lines drawn to resemble sunbeams radiated out from the Eye. The rin
g looked exactly like the one Priest’s grandfather had described. “He’s Illuminati.”

  Dimitri smiled. “The Eye of Providence is popular these days. I see it online all the time.”

  “But you didn’t buy that ring online, did you? Or yours wouldn’t have the Rays of Illumination on it,” Priest said.

  “And you would’ve called the symbol the All-Seeing Eye,” Alara added. “Only Illuminati members refer to it as the Eye of Providence.”

  Dimitri’s hazel eyes flickered with amusement, and he raised his hands in surrender. “Well played, Miss Sabatier.”

  Alara stepped back, stunned. “How do you know my name?”

  “I know all your names. Jared and Lukas Lockhart. Alara Sabatier. Kennedy Waters.” Dimitri ticked off our names until he reached Priest. “And you’re Owen Merriweather. But I understand you prefer to be called Priest.” He stopped in front of Elle. “Now, you I don’t know. Have they added a sixth member to the Legion?”

  “No.” Elle swung her red hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms. “And my mother told me never to talk to strangers.”

  “Good advice for a young lady.” Dimitri didn’t sound condescending, but that didn’t stop Alara from being offended.

  She took a roll of pennies out of her tool belt and curled her hand around them. “Strangers aren’t an issue for young ladies who hit hard enough.”

  “I stand corrected.” Dimitri glanced around the warehouse. “I’m surprised Andras followed you in here. In his weakened state, Andras needs a body at all times. I would’ve expected him to stay in crowded areas.”

  I shuddered, remembering the way the demon had jumped from body to body, while he’d chased us through the streets. “He has to possess someone all the time?”

  “Don’t ask him questions,” Alara snapped. “He’s Illuminati. We can’t trust him.”

  Dimitri studied Alara for a moment. “We’re on the same side, Miss Sabatier. Whatever stories you’ve heard about the Illuminati are probably from hundreds of years ago.”

  Priest turned to Dimitri. “Like the story my granddad told me about two guys wearing rings just like yours, who beat him up in college and stole a grimorie from a library at Yale? That wasn’t hundreds of years ago.”

  Dimitri unwrapped a pack of Dunhills. “I’m familiar with the incident, but I didn’t realize your grandfather was involved. I understand he was a brilliant inventor and mathematician.” Dimitri lit the black cigarette. “Those men were part of a rogue sect of the Illuminati—one that was not accepted by the Grandmaster. Your grandfather was attacked at Yale shortly after the Order was formed. But Gabriel and I are not affiliated with the Order or its members. We want to stop Andras as much as you do.”

  “You guys never offered to help the Legion before.” Jared asked. “Why now?”

  “Andras is free, and that affects us all,” Dimitri said. “If he opens the Gates, the world as we know it will cease to exist.”

  Jared eyed Dimitri, suspicious. “You guys show up out of nowhere and give us some speech about how we’re all playing for the same team, and expect us to just take your word for it?”

  Dimitri walked toward Jared until they were standing eye to eye. “We saved all your lives. If we harbored any ill will toward you, don’t you think we would’ve let the demon finish you off?”

  “We were doing fine on our own,” Priest said.

  Dimitri laughed. “Are you referring to what you were doing when we arrived? Holding hands while you waited for your Wonder Twin powers to activate? You don’t even know why it didn’t work, do you?”

  Jared’s eyes darted from Lukas to Alara and Priest.

  “You need all five members of the Legion to raise the barrier,” Dimitri said. “Without Kennedy’s aunt, you’re one person short.”

  “My aunt is dead.” Considering how much he knew about the five of us, I probably wasn’t telling him anything new. “I took her place in the Legion.”

  Dimitri’s smile faded and a worried crease formed between his eyes. “Well, that explains why your little hand-holding demonstration failed.” He looked right at me, his eyes searching mine. “You can’t be the fifth member of the Legion, Kennedy.”

  I was sick of people telling me what I could and couldn’t do—and tired of being judged because my family had kept the Legion a secret from me. “Why is that?”

  Dimitri’s eyes clouded over, and he hesitated as if he was choosing his words carefully. “You can’t be a member of the Legion, because you’re one of us.”

  19. BATTLE CRUET

  Alara stepped in front of me protectively, her tool belt rattling around her waist. “If you want to con someone, do your homework first. Kennedy didn’t know anything about the Illuminati until she met us.”

  Hearing Alara defend me took some of the sting out of Dimitri’s accusation. I didn’t understand why he was lying about me.

  Dimitri watched me over Alara’s shoulder. “That might be true, but her mother certainly did.”

  “I already know the story,” I said, heading him off. “My aunt told me how the Illuminati sent some guy to pretend he cared about her, when he was really spying on my aunt the whole time. She said my mom was the one who figured it out.”

  “Your aunt didn’t tell you the rest of the story, did she? About what happened after she left the Legion?”

  “I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but—”

  Dimitri cut me off. “The best way to hide your own guilt is to point the finger at someone else. Especially if the person you’re it pointing at expected you to blame him, because it was part of the plan. Faith’s boyfriend wasn’t the only Illuminati member spying on your aunt.”

  I wasn’t sure where he was going with this. “What are you saying?”

  “When your mother revealed the truth about Archer, she earned your aunt’s trust. Your mom was a smart woman, one of the Illuminati’s top operatives.”

  “Liar.” Elle pulled me away from him. “Don’t listen to him, Kennedy. He’s messing with your head.”

  Dimitri took a step closer. “Didn’t you ever wonder why your father left?”

  The words cut through me, re-opening my oldest wound.

  Judging from the look on Dimitri’s face, he knew it, too. “He left when you were five, if I’m not mistaken? Out of the blue, without any explanation? Your father left because he figured out the truth, Kennedy—that not one but two Illuminati spies had infiltrated his family. Archer was the first, the sacrificial lamb.

  “Your mother was the second operative, the one the Illuminati was counting on all along. The plan was genius.” He dropped his cigarette on the floor and ground it into the concrete with his boot. “What better way to get close to Faith than by marrying her only brother?”

  I didn’t know why this guy was lying about my mom. He had to have a motive, but I was too angry to care. “My mother would never do anything like that. She loved my dad, and it destroyed her when he left.”

  My mind pulled up an image of my mother sitting on her bed, surrounded by a sea of tissues. She was holding a framed photo of my dad, her eyes swollen and red.

  “I have no way of knowing how your mother felt about him, but I do that she was Illuminati.” Dimitri turned to Priest. “Which, correct me I’m wrong, means Kennedy can never be a member of the Legion. What is it you say in the Legion? ‘No ties to darkness or Illumination’?”

  Priest shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Usually by now, he’s be pacing It was probably killing him to stay in one place.

  “You’re pretty impressed with yourself for knowing that, aren’t you?” Jared said. “But Kennedy’s aunt knew it better than anyone. And Faith left Kennedy something a Legion member passes down to the person they choose to take their place. Faith would never do that if Kennedy’s mom was Illuminati.”

  Priest turned to me and nodded, as if he was saying, I’ve got your back.

  Dimitri walked toward me. “Then maybe you can answer a question
for me, Kennedy. If you are truly the fifth member of the Legion, why couldn’t the five of you raise the barrier? It should’ve been easy.”

  A sinking feeling settled in my stomach.

  “We probably screwed something up.” Priest said. “We do it all the time.”

  Alara shot him a warning look, and I stifled a smile.

  Lukas crossed his arms. “If that’s all the proof you have then none of us believe you, any more than we trust you.”

  Dimitri shook his head. “You kids are loyal, I’ll give you that. You would’ve been valuable additions to the Illuminati.”

  “I’d rather be dead.” Priest spoke the words with more hate than I’d ever heard from him before.

  Dimitri walked over to the leather doctor’s bag. “There’s only one way to find out if I’m telling the truth.”

  He reached inside and lifted out a mason jar, with what looked like voodoo symbols painted on the outside of the glass. A thick layer of red wax covered the lid and dripped down the sides. Dimitri held the jar up in front of Alara. “You know what this is, don’t you, Miss Sabatier?”

  “Where did you get that?” Alara whispered, backing away.

  “We use Battle Cruets all the time. The Illuminati embraces the knowledge of any culture which has surpassed us when it comes to dealing with spirits and demons.”

  “What the hell is it?” Lukas asked Alara.

  “We call it a War Jar.” She didn’t take her eyes off the jar. “Bokors, voodoo priests who practice dark arts and sell their services, use them. One the most common services they offer is hexing people. There are different ways to do it—dolls, spell bags, using photos or items that belonged to the person you want to hex. But the War Jar is one of the worst.”

  “Your grandmother taught you well.” Dimitri sounded impressed.

  “My grandmother would never have touched one of those. Torturing people isn’t part of our religion.”

  “I should’ve clarified.” Dimitri sounded apologetic. “I retrieved the contents of this cruet from the home of a person who was being tormented by it.”

  Elle eyed the jar suspiciously. “What’s in there exactly? I don’t see anything.”