A summoning circle from the Goetia.
The demon had used the circumference of an existing symbol to hide it, the cryptic writing hugging the black lines of the drawing.
The words, which meant so little before, created a hidden message. A name was written over and over within it.
Bastiel.
How did he do it?
I hit rewind, and my mind searched the mental snapshots of the wall it had recorded, and separated the layers of images.
Layer one: the night Alara left to look for the Shift—
Strange alchemic symbols drawn in repeated sequences over the names of the dead girls—
Layer two: the night Andras revealed Jared’s secret to everyone and Elle got jealous when she saw me with Lukas.
The inner circles and the name Bastiel written seven times, the letters hidden among other words—
Layer three: today—
The outer circle and the looping characters of a forgotten language—
“I know what he did,” I called out. “He drew a summoning circle using the symbols that were already in the cell. It’s hidden underneath a ton of useless characters I don’t recognize. The other demon’s name is Bastiel.”
Andras roared like an animal, and the muscles tensed and rippled up his arms. He curled his hands into fists, pulling against the chain securing his wrist shackles.
The iron snapped, and the links fell to the floor.
Gabriel shoved me behind him, even though Andras was still inside the cell. Could he break out of there, too? “I don’t know how you figured that out, but nice job.” Gabriel held Azazel in his hands, whispering.
“From the bones of my enemies and
The blood of my allies,
The bargains with devils
And the truces with angels,
With the promise of my soul,
I call you
To come together as one.”
The whip reared and lunged through the air, curling around itself and twisting in midair. Azazel cracked against the demon’s back. Andras cried out, but he was stronger now and quickly recovered.
Andras sneered. “You make promises you cannot keep, Gabriel. And for that, I won’t harvest your soul. I’ll make you my slave.”
Dimitri rushed through the tunnel carrying an armload of books, with Lukas, Alara, and Elle right behind him. He slid a heavy book across the floor to Priest. “The Rituale Romanum. Quickly.”
The Rites of Exorcism.
“The pages are marked,” Dimitri yelled. “Read.”
Priest had the book open in seconds, and he and Alara began reading. Dimitri and I were the only ones faster, having committed the rites to memory.
“We exorcise you, every impure spirit
every satanic power, every incursion
of the infernal adversary, every legion
every congregation and diabolical sect.”
Lukas and Elle joined in, her voice shaking so hard I could barely understand her.
“Thus, cursed demon
and every diabolical legion, we adjure you.
Cease to deceive human creatures,
and to give to them the Poison
of Eternal Perdition.”
“Go away, Satan, the inventor and master
of all deceit, the enemy
of humanity’s salvation.
Be humble under the powerful hand of God
tremble and flee—I invoke by
us the sacred and terrible name
at which those down below tremble.”
Gabriel cracked the whip and Azazel snaked through the bars, biting into Andras’ flesh. Andras cried out, but he didn’t fall. Instead, he focused his gaze on me, and I felt a surge of energy hit me—the same way it had the first time I saw him on the streets of Boston. A heavy sensation spread through my limbs, paralyzing me.
“Kennedy?” Dimitri called my name, but I couldn’t answer. My muscles had stopped working, the heaviness in my arms and legs replaced by the sting of numbness.
My body rose from the ground. Silence spun around me, cocooning me inside it. Hands reached for me. The others called out, soundlessly. My arms stretched out at my sides, the crumbling ceiling above me.
Azazel’s barbs snapped in the air, but I couldn’t hear the tiny demon bones wailing. The whip caught Andras, slamming him into the bars. I kept rising.
The metal door flew open at the end of the tunnel, and someone stepped into the dim light.
A man.
He carried an open book, larger than any of the volumes Dimitri had dragged from his bag. The man’s lips moved as his eyes darted from Andras to the book, then finally to me.
Those eyes.
The whip snapped again, the vertebrae and claws unhinging in the air beside me. This time, I heard the bones scream. Andras cried out. I couldn’t be sure if it was a result of Azazel’s attack, or the Rituale Romanum my friends were still chanting, or the words the stranger was reading.
I was falling—
Air and light. Sounds and screams.
My body fell into someone’s arms. Priest stared down at me, panic and determination in his eyes.
Gabriel had Andras against the wall, chaining his hands as the demon thrashed against him. Azazel was wrapped around him, pulsing like a heartbeat each time he strained against the barbs.
Alara charged into the cell, throwing handfuls of ash over Andras’ wet body. Dimitri stood in the middle of the tunnel, with his back to me, staring at the man approaching us.
Clean-shaven, wearing jeans and a rough canvas work jacket, he could’ve been anyone. But the moment his green eyes found me, I knew exactly who he was.
My father.
32. DIARIO DE DEMONI
Stay away from him,” I called out. “Bastiel could be shape shifting again.”
I remembered the night Elle acted jealous after seeing Lukas and I talking, and the night I found her reading the book about summoning demons. When I mentioned the book the next day, she acted like she had no idea what I was talking about.
Because she didn’t.
Dimitri’s eyes narrowed. “He’s not Bastiel. A demon can’t touch the Diario de Demoni.”
The battered leather book in my father’s hands was the diary of the Vatican exorcists, the one thing the original Legion members had taken when they fled. My dad held it in front of him and recited the words. He looked different than I remembered, worn out in a way that had nothing to do with age.
“I exorcise you, unholy spirits,
Servants of darkness,
Infernal legions of the Labyrinth.”
“Heavenly warriors, protectors of light
Free us from this shadow;
Destroy this unblessed deception.”
“I call on Samael, Raphael, Michael,
And all celestial soldiers.
Darkness trembles before you.”
Andras twisted and jerked, as if the words were more painful than Azazel’s barbs. His body swayed dangerously to one side, and he hit the floor.
Dimitri rushed to clamp the shackles around his wrists, the whip still wrapped around his neck. But the demon didn’t move. His chest rose and fell, the only real indication he was still alive.
My father closed the book. For a moment, neither of us moved.
When Dimitri dropped the chain on the cell floor, it startled us both. “Alex. You’re the last person I expected to see here.”
My dad turned toward Dimitri. “And you’re the second to last person I want to see.” My dad’s eyes fell on Gabriel. “But based on what I just saw, you two aren’t capable of cleaning up the mess you’ve made without help.”
Dimitri fished a Dunhill out of his pocket. “The demon is the Legion’s mess, not ours.”
“It’s my fault.” My heart hammered in my chest. “I’m the reason Andras is free.”
A worried crease formed between his deep-set eyes. “You shouldn’t be involved in any of this, Kennedy.”