Page 121 of Conjure

With my arm around Lily’s shoulder to steady her, I grab my phone from my back pocket to phone an ambulance.

I swipe the screen as she sways into me, cursing beneath my breath at the daunting realization. “Gwen, we have a problem.”

She turns around, defeated, and wipes tears from her cheeks.

“I can’t make phone calls. Not even the emergency services. Something is jamming the signal.”

She checks her cell, tapping the screen with frantic fingers. When she looks at me, her chin wobbles. “I’m scared.”

“Whoa,” Aron blurts in the doorway, holding his hands up by his sides as he stares at the knife in Lily’s stomach. “What happened?”

“Where the fuck have you been?” I ask as my nerves and rage skyrocket.

“Bathroom, dude.”

I narrow my eyes, which he ignores as he walks closer. “Are you going to remove the knife?”

“What if it cut through an artery?”

She sways into me while I guide her to the couch in the living room and help her lie down, swiping her matted hair away from her cheeks.

“What happened? Who did this to you?” I ask.

Her eyes slide past me to Aron, who points a finger at himself and laughs. “Me? Oh, that’s fucking rich. I was taking a fucking piss when you were stabbed.”

Shooting to my feet, I square up to him. “You left to see if she was okay.”

Aron purses his mouth, his eyebrows knitting together. Then he chuckles, but it lacks humor. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Remember Brittany? Benny? They did it to themselves.”

Gwen crouches down before Lily to inspect the wound, as her friend winces in pain.

“Maybe the demon is in you,” I point out.

“Please don’t fight,” Gwen urges. She trains her soft gaze on Lily. “Why don’t you tell us what happened.”

“I don’t remember,” she responds, flicking her nervous gaze to Aron. “I was upset, and then the room started spinning. There was this shape—a man. I couldn’t make out his face.” She coughs, her face contorting in pain. “He plunged the knife into me.”

I grind my teeth to dust.

“What do we do with the knife?” Aron asks, and Gwen stands up.

“We could do more damage if we remove it,” she replies. “We can’t stay here. And since we can’t phone for an ambulance, we need to do something. I’m going to get us help.” She leaves the room, and I glance at Aron before turning my worried gaze on Lily. Everything is a mess. Camryn is missing. Lily is bleeding all over the couch.

She takes my hand in hers, and I return her weak smile. She’s scared—I can see it in her eyes.

Gwen returns minutes later, pale as a ghost. “The door won’t open.”

“What about the?—”

“The back door won’t open either. I know. I already tried.”

“What the hell?” I squeeze Lily’s bloodied hand, then stand up and hurry past Gwen in the entryway. She shifts sideways to let me pass, but I’m already gone, running for the front door. I try the handle, but of course, it won’t turn. “What the fuck?” I try to yank on it. When that doesn’t work, I drive my boot into the hard surface. Once, twice, three fucking times.

How is this possible? No phone signal. No escape routes.

My gaze skates to Gwen, where she stands in the doorway. She used to have such a vibrant, no-shit attitude, but now she looks…broken.

I slowly slide my eyes back to the door. A fly crawls over the peephole.