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?”
[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—”