“More proof I’m not a member, and neither was my mom. I don’t have any talents except drawing, and my mother spent all her time cooking.” I tried to sound casual as he finished wrapping my hand. “So unless vengeance spirits are into art or baked goods, you’ve got the wrong girl.”
Jared pressed the last piece of tape against my palm with his thumbs. He lifted his head slowly and for a second, his eyes met mine. “I don’t think you’re the wrong girl.”
I knew he wasn’t talking about me the way a regular boy might, but it felt like he was.
“Priest said your area of expertise is combat and weapons?”
He examined the excessive amount of tape crisscrossing the bandage. “It’s definitely not first aid.”
I pretended to inspect his work, my skin still tingling from his touch. “What does that mean exactly?”
Lukas walked over and stepped in front of his brother, staring down at him. “It means Jared can kick some serious ass.”
Jared seemed uncomfortable. He dropped what was left of the tape into the toolbox and stood up, disappearing behind the worktable without a word. Lukas took his brother’s place on the floor next to me. They looked so much alike that it almost seemed as though Jared was still sitting there.
“What’s your specialty?” I asked, filling the awkward silence.
“Patterns.”
“You lost me.”
Lukas laughed, and I noticed a subtle physical difference between the two brothers. They had exactly the same intense blue eyes and long, straight lashes, but when Lukas smiled, his eyes opened up like a break in the clouds. The storm in Jared’s never parted.
“Areas with an increase in negative paranormal activity have certain patterns—electrical storms, severe weather fluctuations, dramatic increases in suicide and violent crime. My job is to find those patterns, which usually involves hacking into the mainframes at hospitals, news stations, and police departments.” He sounded almost apologetic. “It’s not as cool as combat and weapons, but we don’t get to pick our specialties. We inherit them from the Legion member who chooses us.”
Lukas’ eyes dropped to the ground.
“Hacking computers sounds pretty cool to me,” I offered.
“When I was a kid, my dad sparred with me all the time. He even taught me how to take his guns apart and make salt rounds. I thought he wanted me to replace him. But when the time came, he picked Jared.”
I wondered if that was the source of the tension between Lukas and Jared, a father picking one son over the other. Judging by the strained expression on Lukas’ face, it was at least one reason.
“Analyzing that kind of information seems complicated. Maybe he knew you were good at it.”
“You sound like my dad.” He forced a smile. “It’s not all analysis. I destroy my share of vengeance spirits, too.”
“Not tonight.” A girl’s voice echoed through the room, deep and authoritative. “You need to hit the books and find the Marrow.”
A tall girl towered over us, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
“Your wish is my command,” Lukas teased. He stood up and offered me a hand. “Kennedy, this is Alara.”
She didn’t strike me as particularly friendly, wearing what resembled authentic military-issue cargo pants, a leather tool belt, and a T-shirt that read TAKE NO PRISONERS. But that wasn’t what threw me. The girl was beautiful—with long wavy hair, perfectly smooth caramel-colored skin, and dark almond-shaped eyes. The silver hoop in her eyebrow made her look even more formidable.
Alara gave me the once-over, evaluating me on criteria I probably didn’t meet. “So you’re the mysterious fifth member?”
“I’m not—”
“It was a close call,” Lukas interrupted. “We got there just in time.”
“That’s what you get for having cats.” Alara frowned at me, an expression her features settled into easily. “Do you know how many cultures have folklore about cats stealing people’s breath?”
I didn’t.
“And how often has it actually happened?” Lukas asked offhandedly. The color drained from his face immediately.
Alara raised her eyebrows. “This month? That would be five.” She ticked off our murdered family members one at a time on her fingers.
I turned to Lukas. “Why would you have a cat if you knew that was possible?”
“They can see spirits, which makes them a convenient warning system,” he said. “Up until now, the whole cats-killing-people-in-their-sleep thing was more of an urban legend.”
“You didn’t have a cat?” I asked Alara.
Her frown deepened and she touched the silver medal around her neck, bearing yet another symbol I didn’t recognize. “My grandmother was Haitian. She knew better. The cat must’ve climbed through an open window.”
The more I learned about the invisible world lurking around us, the more I wanted to be oblivious. But it was too late for that. Until I found a way to convince these people, and a demon, that I wasn’t the fifth member of their secret exorcist society, my life was in danger.
“Wait.” Alara stared at me, eyes wide, as the realization settled over her. “Are you messing with me?”