by Kami Garcia
“What are you saying?” My voice sounded distant and muffled, like it belonged to someone else and I was eavesdropping on the conversation.
Jared’s tears ran down my hands. “I made a list of all the names. I was gonna show it to my dad. The next day, he was dead. They were all dead. And suddenly we were the Legion.”
It’s his fault my mom is dead.
I knew it was true, but I couldn’t hate him.
Jared’s father hid something from him, and he went looking for answers. How many times had I searched for the note my father wrote, the one I saw perfectly every time I closed my eyes? My mother had never let me see it again after the day he left, and it had only made me search harder.
I would have looked for them, too.
My body shook as I cried. This time I couldn’t pretend, and I couldn’t stop. Jared let go of my wrists, trying to create space between us, but it was impossible.
There was no space between us—inside or outside these walls.
“I know you’ll never be able to forgive me. My own brother hates me,” he said.
It all made sense. The tension between them—the unspoken anger simmering below the surface—it was about so much more than their father choosing Jared to take his place in the Legion… or me.
“I’m sorry. I wish I could take it back,” Jared whispered, his voice hoarse. “All I want to do is be near you, and I don’t deserve to be.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry—”
I shook my head. “No. The other thing.”
Jared stilled and put his hands flat against the boards behind me, with my face between them. I couldn’t see him in the darkness, but I could feel him watching me cry.
Seeing me—the person I tried so hard to hide from the world and replace with someone better.
“All I want to do is be near you.” He spoke the words slowly, his face so close I could feel his breath on my skin and smell the salt on his. “Kennedy, what do you want?”
The question lingered between us, tearing me apart. But I couldn’t make myself say the words, no matter how many times I repeated them in my head. “It doesn’t make a difference.”
“It makes a difference to me.” His voice was raw and deep.
“I want to matter. I want to be the kind of girl someone can’t just walk away from and forget.”
He ran his thumb down the center of my bottom lip. “No one could ever forget you.”
Someone did.
Something inside me gave way, and I started sobbing.
Jared took my face in his hands and his lips brushed mine. It wasn’t a kiss. It was a breath. A heartbeat.
“You see what I want you to see. It has nothing to do with who I really am,” I said, our lips barely separated.
“Then let me see the rest,” he whispered.
I shook my head, choking on my tears. “I can’t.”
He pressed his forehead against mine. “Why not?”
“Because I’m afraid I won’t be able to go back to the person I was when you walk away.” I said it before I could stop myself, before I calculated all the ways those words could hurt me.
His hands slid behind my neck, tangling in my hair. “I won’t walk away.”
“Everyone does, eventually.”
He gathered me up in his arms and held me tighter than anyone ever had. Tight enough to make me forget about where we were, or how much I wanted to be someone else. In this moment, I wanted to be me. The girl Jared was holding.
I wanted right now.
“I don’t know how anyone could walk away from you,” he murmured. “How anyone could stand to hurt you.”
Easily.
“I want…” He hesitated. “Can I kiss you?”
I pushed up onto my toes and pressed my mouth against his, opening into him. He pulled me closer. His body melted against mine, and my breath hitched as Jared’s finger trailed down my throat. I tugged on his bottom lip and he kissed me harder, like it didn’t matter if we ever got out of here.
I leaned into him, my hands crushed between his back and the boards.
“Kennedy.” His voice was ragged, his fingers slipping under the bottom of my shirt. I felt his chest rising and falling, the pressure of all the things we couldn’t say in every kiss.
27. UNEARTHED
Something vibrated on the other side of the wall. Was the spirit nailing in another board?
It intensified, and a piece of wood started to give. I pulled back as the board behind Jared’s shoulders came loose, and light flooded through the crack.
“You guys okay?” Priest’s voice pierced the haze and I turned toward it, blinking hard against the light.
Jared stared back at me, his face streaked with the blood from my hands.
Lukas stood on the other side holding the dislodged board. His eyes dropped to Jared’s hands still resting on my hips, and his expression darkened.
Jared stepped back awkwardly. “We’re good. Just get her out.”
Lukas and Priest tore the boards away one at a time until the opening was big enough to climb through.
I stepped out and Alara threw her arms around me. I winced and she drew back. “Oh my god, Kennedy. Look at your hands.”
I didn’t want to see them. I wanted to remember them touching Jared’s face and wiping his tears, instead of clawing at the boards.
“How did you find us?”
Broken glow sticks bathed the room in green light. Alara pointed at the rows of beds. The spirits of the children gathered in the aisle, except for the one that trapped us inside the wall. He was conspicuously missing, his sledgehammer lying at the foot of one of the beds.
“They showed us where you were,” she said.
I stared out into the sea of expectant faces. “Thank you.”
Would they be able to move on now? I hated the thought of them being trapped in this slaughterhouse.
“What happened to the other one?” I asked.
Priest held up the nail gun loaded with the cold-iron nails. “I took him out.”
Jared leaned against the wall, his head down. “Did you find the disk?”
“There was nothing up there except rats and empty beer bottles,” Alara answered.
“We can’t leave until we find it.” Jared’s eyes drifted to the hole. “Not after that.”
Jared rubbed his hand over his face. Now that I knew the truth about the secret Jared was carrying, I could see the guilt in his every movement.
Priest paced the room. “If you were going to hide something in this house, where would you put it?”
“Down here,” I answered automatically. “Not many people would hang around long enough to find it.”
Priest looked at the spirits. “Think they’ll mind if we try?”
Sifting through the evidence of a mass-murder scene was harder than I expected, especially when the victims were scampering around us. I lifted the thin mattresses easily, working the right side of the room while Alara worked the left. Jared and Lukas checked the walls for cracks and hidden spaces while two of the taller children trailed behind them.
Priest sat on the floor with a handheld transistor radio. A group of spirits gathered around him.
“In the mood for some music?” I asked.
“Just the opposite.” He turned the dial until a steady stream of static crackled through the air, then he cranked the volume all the way up.
“What are you doing?”
He smiled and pulled a calculator out of his jeans. “Watch and learn.”
“You really do carry that thing around all the time.”
“Standard operating genius procedure.” Priest turned on the calculator and held it against the radio until it emitted a loud tone. “You can use calculators to make all sorts of stuff. Can you see if there’s any tape around?”
A tray next to one of the beds held a dirty roll of medical tape—the same kind securing the IV ports onto the spirits’ arms. I tossed it to Priest, eager to have i
t out of my hands. “Will this work?”
“Yep.”
Lukas came over to take a look. “What are you making?”
Priest held up the contraption. “Behold, all of you scientifically challenged.” He took a few nails out of his pocket and held them next to the calculator. The radio emitted another low tone. “What we have here is a metal detector.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Lukas asked.
“Did you miss my little demonstration?” Priest stood up. The spirits scattered, watching from a safe distance.
He walked back to the mouth of the corridor and reentered the room, sweeping it slowly. Each time he passed a metal tray or an IV pole, the radio emitted the same sound. Like most of Priest’s inventions, the construction reminded me of a futuristic science-fair project. But it was completely functional, and the spirits were mesmerized. Every few minutes, the station changed suddenly.
Alara’s eyes widened. “They’re channeling the electrical energy.”
“Come on, kids. I’m working here.” Priest swept the metal detector around the last bed. When it didn’t pick up anything new, he glanced at the hole. “Should we check in there?”
I shuddered at the thought as the device transmitted another tone.
The sledgehammer rested at the end of the bed next to Priest.
“So much for science.” He lifted it by the handle and smacked the head of the hammer against his hand. “I wonder if I could replace this with cold iron? It’s already loose.”
“Probably from being used to seal us up in a wall,” I said sarcastically. I didn’t want that thing to become a modified weapon in our arsenal.
Priest twisted the head and it hit the ground, cracking the concrete floor.
“It’s a sign.” Alara picked it up and walked toward the hole, ready to toss it inside. But she stopped short. “Priest?”
He took the hunk of metal from her and examined the circular groove where it connected to the handle. A large plate lay behind it with a channel cut through the center. Priest used his screwdriver to remove the plate, exposing a circular chamber. A disk’s silver edge rested against the lip, completely protected.
He flipped over the head of the hammer, and the circle of yellow glass dropped into his hand.
Alara gasped. “How did someone get it in there without that vengeance spirit going crazy?”
“Maybe they gave him something he wanted.”
Jared picked up the handle off the floor. Numbers were scratched into the wood. “What do you think they mean? It looks like math homework.”
39.9159082-80.7420296
Lukas jerked the handle out of his brother’s hand, studying the numbers. “They’re coordinates.”
“You think they lead to the last piece of the Shift?” Alara asked.
Lukas tightened his hand around the splintered wood. “Yeah. And if we find it, we can destroy Andras.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Priest handed the metal detector to one of the spirits. The child grabbed it and scampered away.
We walked back down the aisle between the beds. The children were already playing with the metal detector, possibly the only toy some of them had ever seen. We moved past the nightmarish drawings and up the cracked stairs. I thought about all the innocent people the Legion must have saved over the years, and I couldn’t help but wonder…
Who saved the innocent souls?
28. FLORIDA WATER
I waited on the front steps, hoping to avoid the awkward-ness of being alone with Lukas and Jared. Priest and Alara had disappeared the moment we left the basement. Priest was determined to figure out where the coordinates on the handle led, and Alara had mumbled something about tying up loose ends.
I stared at my hands, splinters and dirt embedded under my nails instead of black charcoal. Artists protected their hands. What did that say about me? How much would I have to give up for the Legion?
The muffled sound of voices rose inside the house. Without any vengeance spirits to fight, Lukas and Jared were left with each other. A door slammed and snippets of their conversation drifted outside.
“We both know you don’t care about her,” Lukas shouted. “She’s just something else for you to take—”
A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. Lukas meant something to me, even if I couldn’t define exactly what it was. I didn’t want to hurt him.
“Luke, I didn’t mean for this to happen—”
“Like you didn’t mean to kill Dad?” The words echoed through the house, layered with pain and anger.
“You know that was an accident,” Jared said quietly.
“Everything’s an accident with you because you never think about anyone but yourself.” I leaned against the door debating whether or not to open it. “Is Kennedy going to be your next victim?”
“Hey, are you going back in?” Alara climbed the stairs behind me, a canvas knapsack slung over her shoulder.
“Wait—”
She opened the door before I could stop her, catching Lukas and Jared off guard. They both turned and looked past Alara to where I stood. I dropped my eyes, hoping they wouldn’t realize how much I’d heard.
Alara broke the silence. “Am I interrupting something that looks like it needs interrupting?”
Jared slouched against the wall, his eyes glued to the floor.
Lukas noticed Alara’s knapsack. “What are you doing?”
She strode past them. “My grandmother would never leave the spirits of those children in this awful place. I have to try to release them so they can move on.”
“Can you do that?” I followed her tentatively.
“I’m not sure. I’ve only seen my grandmother do it, and I don’t have the traditional supplies. But I think I can make some substitutions.”
“Why didn’t the spirits disappear like the little boy in the well?” I asked. He had seemed at peace.
“Sometimes they don’t know how to move on. They’re lost and need help finding their way.”
Lukas frowned. “And you’re going to be their guide?”
“More like their travel agent.” Alara pulled four packages of Red Cap tobacco out of her bag. “If you guys want to help, I’m going to need a bucket.”
The spirits crowded around Alara as she emptied one of the tobacco packets into a bucket of water and stirred it with her hand. “We have to make a floor wash and cleanse the room of negative energy or the loas won’t come.”
“The what?”
“The loas are intermediaries in the spirit world. Some of them guide lost souls to the other side,” she explained, her arms soaked to the elbows. “But they won’t show up unless we scrub this room down.”
Jared studied the brown water. “And this is what we’re using to clean the place?”
“Florida Water makes the best floor wash. Unless you have bergamot oil, rose water, oil of neroli, and about seven other ingredients stashed in the van, we’re going with this. Lots of cultures use tobacco to purify sacred spaces.” She handed Jared a wet towel. “Start purifying.”
Lukas walked up and down the stairs, refilling the bucket in the kitchen until Alara ran out of Red Cap and the floors were clean, at least according to her standards. He didn’t say a word to Jared and not much more to me. When he caught me watching him, his usual playful expression was gone.
Alara lit a novena candle in the center of the room. By now, some of the children were sitting cross-legged around her, fascinated. “We need something to offer the loas.”
I glanced at the stripped beds and the IV poles, the bare bulb and the dirty faces of the spirits. There was nothing here. Lukas and Jared looked through their pockets, but weapons and salt didn’t seem like the right sort of offerings.
I only had one thing of value.
My hand shook as I slipped my mother’s silver bracelet off my wrist and handed it to Alara. I heard a rip and turned in time to see Jared tearing something off his father’s jacket. He dropped the white patch bearing his last n
ame next to the candle.
Alara shook her head. “I’m not sure it’s enough.”
One of the smaller children scrambled to her feet and disappeared behind a metal bed frame. She scurried back and handed Alara a dirty bundle with two circles drawn on the front, and a piece of IV tubing wrapped around it. A crude doll made from one of the bed straps.
Alara’s eyes glistened in the candlelight as she opened her journal and read from a page written in Haitian Creole, the language of the loas. The children listened intently and she turned to the next page, written in English—Psalm 136.
Her voice was quiet, and I only heard snippets as she spoke.
“To him who alone doeth great wonders:
for his mercy endureth for ever…
With a strong hand, and with a stretched out arm:
for his mercy endureth for ever…
And hath redeemed us from our enemies:
for his mercy endureth forever.”
Their bodies started to fade, two or three at a time until there was nothing left but a patch, a silver bracelet, and a doll lying on the floor.
Upstairs, I lingered by the front door, trying to sense the change within the house. Part of me wanted to open the pantry in the kitchen to see if the spirit of the little girl was still locked inside. But I knew she was just a fingerprint left behind, and I wanted to remember the real spirits who had finally found a way out.
Jared was standing in the center of the rusty merry-go-round, staring past the gates over which no child would’ve been tall enough to see. From where I stood, the world was framed by those black bars. Had the children ever seen the world without them? Would they be able to see it now?
“When I was little, I wanted to be a superhero so I could protect people from the bad guys.” Jared didn’t look at me. “I couldn’t even protect you from a dead kid.”
“If you’re talking about what happened today—”
“We could’ve died, Kennedy.”
The front door slammed behind me.
“And whose fault is that?” Lukas stalked across the yard toward his brother.