Lukas shoved his brother and the cups slipped out of their hands, coffee splattering onto the floor.
“What are you doing back there?” The guy was off his stool and halfway down the aisle, the phone receiver still lying on the counter.
“I’m really sorry.” Lukas grabbed a bunch of napkins from a nearby dispenser. “We’ll clean it up.”
“And you’re gonna pay for those,” I heard him say as the door closed behind me.
I climbed over the Dumpster behind the 7-Eleven and followed the main road back to the elementary school, careful to stay off the shoulder in case the cashier decided to call the police. Behind the school, I huddled on a bench listening for sirens.
If he did call, would the police tell my aunt I was okay?
Even though I didn’t like her, she had offered to take me in after my mom died, and I owed her something for that—at least a message to let her know I wasn’t lying in a ditch. I had considered calling more than once, but if the police believed someone kidnapped me, her phone would definitely be tapped.
A disposable cell phone might throw off the police, but I wasn’t sure about a demon. Vengeance spirits had already followed me to the warehouse, and I wasn’t willing to make any more mistakes.
The sirens never came, just boots crunching across the dry leaves. “Kennedy?”
“Over here.”
Jared scanned the playground until he saw me, and his tense expression broke into a rare smile. “That was way too close.”
“No argument here.” I glanced behind him. “Where is everyone?”
“In the van. I thought four of us wandering around might look suspicious.” He sat down on the other end of the bench. “How did you know that guy in the store recognized you?”
“He was watching TV, and I saw my picture on the screen.”
Jared leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked back at me. I wanted to reach out and touch the scar above his eye—to ask him how he got it.
“Maybe you should stay in the van next time,” he said. “I don’t know if I can pull off another performance like that.”
“You were pretty convincing. I think you missed your calling.”
His smile faded and silence stretched between us.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally.
“For what?”
“I know you probably wish you weren’t part of this.” He sounded so lonely. I fought the urge to put my arms around him and breathe in the smell of salt and copper that clung to Jared even when he was only bleeding on the inside.
I wanted to tell him how lonely I was—how badly I needed someone. I wanted to tell him that and so much more. But I couldn’t find the words, or I wouldn’t let myself.
“That’s not true.”
Jared bit his lip. “Come on. You had a life—school, friends, probably a boyfriend—something better than this.”
Was that really what he thought? That I walked away from the perfect life?
“If I had a boyfriend, I would’ve called him by now. I don’t abandon the people I care about.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“And if by better, you mean losing my mom and packing up my whole life to move to a boarding school I’d never seen…” My voice wavered. “Then, yeah, I guess it was better.”
Jared’s face softened, opening up in a way that was beautiful and scary at the same time. He moved his hand slowly to the place where mine rested on the bench between us. My breath caught as he laced our fingers together.
Jared squeezed my hand and my heart stumbled. “I wish—”
The chain-link fence rattled on the other side of the yard as Lukas hopped over it.
I pulled my hand away, leaving Jared’s on the bench. But I could still feel it as if I had never let go.
Sunshine didn’t live up to its name. The guys went into town to see what they could find out, while Alara and I stayed behind and pored over the journals, searching for any information related to dybbuk boxes.
She turned to a page in hers with an elaborate symbol drawn on it—a circle with a heptagram in the center. Words in an unfamiliar language were written inside and around the circumference. It was the same symbol someone had drawn on the floor of the warehouse.
[ART TO COME]
“What’s that?”
“The Devil’s Trap. It’s from The Goetia, one of the oldest grimoires in existence. If a demon steps inside one of these, it can’t get out.” Alara traced the outer circle with her finger. “If the lines are precise enough, the trap can even destroy the demon.”
Below it there was another symbol—two perpendicular lines with elaborate flourishes near each point.
[ART TO COME]
Miray la was written next to it.
“Is that French?”
“Haitian Creole. It means ‘the Wall.’ ”
“Is it like the Devil’s Trap?” I asked.
She shook her head. “The Wall is just a binding symbol. It can keep a spirit bound inside, but it’s not strong enough to destroy one. You have to do that yourself.”
I stared at the Devil’s Trap and wondered if my mom had ever seen one, trying to reconcile the woman who baked me brownies whenever I had a rough day with the missing member of the Legion.
Alara closed the book. “There’s nothing in here. Hopefully, the guys are having better luck.” In this situation, it was a relative term. “But you’re going to need more than luck.”
“What do you mean?”
She climbed into the van and came back with a duct-taped gun and a handful of liquid salt rounds. “Most people only need to know how to defend themselves against the living. I’m going to make sure you can say the same about the dead.”
Alara had lent me some of her extra clothes before we left the motel this morning, since mine smelled like sewage. Now the pockets were filled with salt rounds and cold-iron nails.
“Move your hand higher on the grip.” Alara took the gun and demonstrated. “It gives you more control.”
“Okay,” I said, as she handed me back the gun. I repositioned my hands and took a deep breath. I squeezed the trigger, and the salt round exploded against the ground a few feet from the tree I’d tried to hit.
Alara sighed. “Next time, try keeping your eyes open.”
After an hour, I started to get the hang of it and managed to hit more than a few defenseless trees and one traumatized squirrel.
I was sitting in the grass, rubbing my boots with a rag when I heard gravel crunching on the other side of the van. Priest came around the corner wearing a bright orange hoodie with CINDY’S DINER across the front. “Did you miss me?”
Lukas and Jared were behind him, carrying two Styrofoam cups and a pink cardboard box.
I gestured at Priest’s hoodie. “S
ubtle.”
“It was this or NASCAR. And I’m not the one with my face in the newspaper.”
“It was TV, not the paper,” I said, like the distinction somehow affected my fugitive status.
“Not anymore.” Lukas tossed me a copy of the local paper. It was open to the page with a tiny picture of me and the details of my supposed abduction.
Priest sat down next to me. “Don’t worry, you’re on the same page as a story about a ninety-six-year-old woman who won the lottery playing her cat’s birthday. People probably won’t even see it.”
“And we come bearing gifts.” Lukas handed us each a cup and Jared opened the box. Coffee and doughnuts, they smelled like heaven.
“That box better be the only thing that’s pink.” Alara ripped open several packets of sugar at once and dumped them in her cup.
I walked around to the back of the van and tossed the guns into one of the duffel bags.
“Hey.” Lukas was standing behind me. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just wanted to give you this.” He reached under his jacket and pulled out a pad of white paper. “I know you don’t have a journal from your mom, but I thought maybe you could start one. Or you can just draw in it. Priest says you’re really good.”
I reached for the pad and our hands touched.
There was something between us, even if it wasn’t the magnetic pull I felt with Jared. I ignored the hypnotic blue eyes and soft lips they shared, and really looked at Lukas. I thought about the way I felt safe whenever he was close, and the friendship he offered as easily as a smile.
“It was all they had at 7-Eleven, but I’ll get you a real one when I have a chance.”
“No, it’s perfect.” I held it against my chest. “I miss drawing.” I reached up and hugged him. “Thanks.”
Lukas slid his hands around my waist and pulled me closer, and I breathed in the scent of his skin—the smell of the woods after it rained. His cheek brushed mine. “Anytime.”
I slipped the pad into the duffel and followed Lukas back to the other side of the van. Jared didn’t look in our direction, his eyes glued to the ground.
“Did you guys find out anything or what?” Alara dumped two more packets of sugar in her coffee.