Page 59 of Conjure

Lily’s soft cries sound muted in the background. I peer down at Brittany’s hand inside the meat grinder, and my heart stutters.

Brittany’s distorted laughter rings out in the small room—cold and sinister. “It’s easy. You wanted to play, so we’ll play.”

“Play?” I ask.

“Your friends offered themselves up as vessels.”

“Are you saying you’re bored?” I spit.

Brittany’s eyes swim with darkness as her lips peel back. “I feed on chaos and pain.” Her smile morphs into something sickening and she lowers her voice, whispering, “Desire.”

I glance down at her hand and swallow thickly. “So why don’t you take me?”

Next to me, Aron turns to granite. I press on, “I live in that house. It’s me you want.”

“Don’t worry, your time will come.”

With a flick of her fingers, the machine turns on, and all hell breaks loose. Screams erupt in the room, but not from me. No, I watch in terror as blood and minced flesh pour from the meat grinder.

Aron surges forward and rips her away, only to be met by her psychotic peals of laughter.

Where her hand used to be, mangled flesh and protruding bone remain—stark white amongst all that red.

I can’t look away, my stomach churning violently as I grow dizzy.

“Phone a fucking ambulance,” Aron shouts, cradling her in his arms, and that’s when I realize her black eyes are locked on me.

A slow smirk graces her lips before the black retreats, and her face contorts in pain, her agonized scream tearing through my soul. The wind shifts the curtains in my periphery, a leaf twirling against the glass, as if seeking a way inside.

As I watch, another gust of wind carries it away while sirens draw closer in the distance.

SEVENTEEN

CAMRYN

Time moves slowly.I’ve lost count of how many nurses have walked past while I stare blankly at the off-white wall across the hall. Even the muted sounds struggle to penetrate through this fog.

Lily has finally stopped crying beside me, and Gwen looks like she has aged a decade. I think we all have.

Seated beside me, Aron has his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His disheveled hair looks as though he has run his fingers through it to the point of pain. His bloodshot eyes are as distant as mine.

The doctor came by earlier to inform us that Brittany’s surgery was a success and that she would be okay, but her hand…

I shudder, remembering the blood and minced flesh and Brittany’s agonized screams?—

“You need to answer your fucking phone.”

I’m not even surprised he’s here. Of course, he is. He’ll always find me.

I stare blankly at the crotch in front of me, at the thick bulge obscuring my view of the hospital wall.

Two fingers lift my chin. Dominic’s dark eyes hook mine, his jaw clenching as he stares down at me with enough intensity to sink a ship and drown its crew. I expect him to reprimand me, but he stays silent, flexing his fingers on my jaw.

A nurse walks by behind him, the sound of her footsteps fading into the background—everythingfades except for him. He’s all I can focus on as the tears cascade down my cheeks.

I feel safe now that he’s here.

Without a word, he pulls me into his embrace and wraps his big arms around me.