Page 111 of Conjure

“You can’t escape me.” His voice comes out like an animalistic growl. “You will let me inside you.”

“In your fucking dreams,” I snap, darting my gaze around the room for something to use to defend myself.

I pause when I spot the axe inside a circle of white on the floor. I don’t question it as I sprint forward to grab the weapon.

The door crashes open against the wall, and the monster enters with a triumphant smile. But it falls when he spots me inside the circle.

“Witchcraft…” His menacing voice is a low snarl.

I grip the axe as he approaches.

“What are you going to do with that?” he asks, amused. “If you use it, you’ll hurt that precious boyfriend of yours.”

“He can live without an arm or two.” I’m bluffing, and the creature knows it too. I could never hurt Dominic.

He laughs, amused for a moment, before his attention lands on the ring of powder. “Who taught you about salt?”

Confused, I look down.

Salt?

He circles me, hissing at the salt, his eyes as black as the night. Frustration bleeds from his pores when he snarls at me. I never take my eyes off him. Not even for a second. The relentless throb in my head intensifies, and I struggle not to stumble. Shaking my head, I blink.

“Witch,” he spits, darting forward with inhuman speed, a blur of movement, before jumping back again. He hisses like a serpent, and my heart surges to my throat. He steps as close as the markings on the floor will allow and speaks in tongues, making me tremble as I clutch the axe like a lifeline.

My heels brush against the salt when I inch back.

With a final snarl, the ink recedes from his eyes, and Dominic collapses to the floor. He’s out cold, but I don’t dare exit the circle.

I choke on a sob as I step up to the salt. What if he’s bluffing? What if he opens his eyes and kills me the moment I leave the protective ring? Is that what it is? What if he’s gone and returns?

I look down to see my toes touching the salt. Who put it on the floor? Who painted this circle? Where did it come from? I trace the intricately carved symbol on the axe’s handle.

Groaning on the floor, Dominic’s eyes flutter open, and when he looks at me, all my fears fly out the window. I rush to his side, dropping the axe and helping him to sit. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Dominic leans back against the fridge. “You’re bleeding. You’re hurt.” He straightens up and cups my cheeks. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop it. I tried, but?—”

“Shhh.” I want to sob with relief as I stroke his stubbly cheeks. “It’s okay.” I kiss him, whispering, “It’s not your fault.”

THIRTY-THREE

CAMRYN

I jointhe others in the dimly lit living room, where they’re gathered on the couches.

Seated on the floor, Gwen slides a bottle of vodka from her bag, which she most likely stole from her parents’ stash. She waves it with a wide grin. Her hair has been dyed blue and falls around her shoulders, and she has swapped her black lipstick for a deep purple shade.

“Isn’t that a little inappropriate?” Lily questions, her voice laced with disapproval, as she settles on the couch across from me.

Gwen rolls her lips between her teeth and proceeds to pour us all a glass before placing the bottle on the coffee table and holding hers up for a toast. “To us, for being royally fucked.”

I down mine, wishing I could drink all my problems away. Gwen pours herself another glass while Dominic shifts forward to place his empty one on the table. When he eases back, he slides his arm around me and pulls me into his side.

Gwen looks at me expectantly, but her expression lacks the usual excitement. Now she looks tired, a shadow of her former self. We all do. “You called this emergency meeting. What’sgoing on?” She takes a large sip of vodka, and I allow Dominic’s heat to comfort me as I look down at my hands. “The demon entered Dominic.”

Gwen chokes on the drink.

Silence.