Free Unmarked by Kami García Page A

eyes widened, and Alara looked like she was holding her breath. The story none of them knew—the missing puzzle pieces—were written on the pages in my aunt’s hand.
    “What exactly were you told?” Faith asked.
    “My journal has an entry about the plan.” Lukas held it up.
    Jared shoved his hands in his pockets. “The one in mine was written after everything went bad. A lot of stuffabout unleashing the beast and Markus taking the blame for whatever happened to the angel. He said her blood was on their hands.”
    “Which makes it sound like she died that night,” Alara said.
    Elle gave her a strange look. “Angels can’t die.”
    “How do you know? Have you ever met one?” Alara shot back.
    Faith rested the book on one of the taller stacks so we could see it. “You should read it for yourselves. There’s nothing more dangerous than going to war without knowing your enemy.”
    15th December 1776
    Nathaniel Madigan
    As I write this, I fear God will not forgive us for what we have done. I know I will never forgive myself. But our errors on this night must be recorded, even if our sins cannot be erased.
    With only candlelight to guide him, it is no surprise Markus’ hand betrayed him. Julian read from the grimoire, and the five of us spoke the words to summon the demon. In my darkest dreams, I never imagined seeing the true face of evil—a creature that was not man nor beast but something in between.
    Markus prepared the angelic summoning circle, and we called the angel Anarel to control the beast. She appeared, her tattered wings reaching out like crooked fingers on an old woman’shand. Anarel’s ferocity rivaled that of the beast himself. With features cut from the finest stone, she did not resemble the winged protectors painted on the ceilings of the city’s wealthiest churches. She seemed as angry to be called as Andras. But unlike the angel, the marquis of hell was amused.
    Julian spoke first, facing the beast without fear. “Andras, Author of Discords, we call you to do our bidding in the name of His Holiness. We command you to seek out the men who call themselves the Illuminati and—”
    The demon laughed. “You dare to command me? I command six thousand legions in the Labyrinth, and you stand before me, five men, and this”—he faced the angel with disdain—“castoff, as if you have the power to control me?”
    The angel showed no emotion as she responded to the beast. “This would not be the first time I have commanded you, Andras. Or the first time you have bent to my will.”
    In that moment, all things happened at once.
    Andras crossed the circle and looked into Markus’ eyes.
    Then he stepped inside our friend’s body, and Markus’ chest expanded, as though he were taking a deep breath. His back stiffened, and he stood straighter than any man I had ever seen.
    When Andras had filled him, Markus turned toward the angel, cracking his neck as though his bones were stiff from days of sleep. The demon’s shining ebony eyes replaced Markus’ green ones.
    Markus opened his mouth, but the voice that spoke to us was not his own. “I should thank you all for inviting me into this world.The Devil’s Labyrinth is crowded, with fewer souls to harvest. I prefer my space.” He turned to Anarel, whose terrifying and tattered wings flickered in and out of view like a candle flame.
    From her belt she drew a sword, clear in places and stained with dark streaks in others. “Killing you will be a great honor. One for which I will be greatly rewarded.”
    Konstantin stepped forward, his rosary and Bible in hand. “Markus is an innocent, possessed by the darkest of evil. You are an angel, a messenger of God.”
    Anarel’s tattered wings rippled in the candlelight, and she faced Konstantin with the same disdain she had shown the demon. “A messenger? That is what you believe me to be? I am a soldier for a father you do not know. My loyalty is to him, not you. Soon enough, the sins of man will rival