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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

C ody sat back from the photocopied pages of tiny, elaborate script in the town record he’d been assigned to read, and said, “Huh.” His neck ached and his eyes burned, but what he’d just read sent a tickle of possibility through him.

“What?” Demmy was seated on the floor beside him, both leaning against the rear wall of the office, where a couple of file cabinets used to reside. Cody had pressed his leg against Demmy’s and the connection was warm and reassuring. All of them were reading by the flashlights on their phones. Clarabell had two battery pack phone chargers in her bag—because of course she did—which were being shared within the group. Soon after she had arrived, Lucia left to, as she put it, “handle the shit show of a circus out at the Pines.”

“I don’t know if it really matters,” Cody said.

“Oh my God, just say it.” Impatience gave Tracey’s voice an even sharper edge than usual.

Cody looked back at the paper. “From what I just read, Harriettville used to be part of Parson’s Hollow.”

“So?” Tracey said. “We learned that in high school.”

“We did?” Demmy said, again proving he was the most amazing husband in the world.

Tracey shrugged and looked back at her own papers. “I did.”

“So, why did that stand out to you?” Demmy asked. “Other than to throw it in Jugs’s face.”

“That’s just it,” Cody said, getting to his feet. He stretched and groaned, his ass numb from sitting on the floor. “We’ve been looking at longtime residents of Parson’s Hollow, but we could also look at people who’ve lived in Harriettville all their lives, too, right?”

“You want us to expand our search criteria?” Clarabell said. “Now?”

“Hey, I’m just coming into this research party,” Cody said. “If Demmy and I had been included before this week, we could have helped find these descendants before the two-minute warning.”

“We kept you out of it because you never liked being in it,” Clarabell said. “That’s all we heard.”

“Wait.” Demmy got to his feet, grunting and pausing to stretch afterward.

“It’s not easy, is it?” Cody said, looking his body up and down, knowing exactly where Demmy was feeling it.

“It’s really not.” Demmy smiled briefly before looking at Tracey and Clarabell. “This could actually help us. What if…” He looked back at Cody. “Just go with me here. What if Jugs and his family have lived in Harriettville all their lives? Could he maybe be a descendant?”

Cody nodded. “It would make things a lot easier. He already knows what’s going on.”

“Is there a way to check lineages from Harriettville?” Demmy said.

“Let me see.” Clarabell turned away from the photocopied papers she had been reading and opened her binder. She flipped a few pages, then a few more. “What’s Jugs’s name?”

“Darnell Perramon,” Cody said.

“Huh,” Clarabell said, then she squinted and leaned in a bit as she adjusted the light from her phone.

“What?” Tracey said. “What did you find?”

“His family might trace back to Abigail Brewster.” Clarabell looked up. “Call him. See if he knows much about his family history.”

Cody looked at Demmy. “You need to do it. He knows about the witch and demon, but not about the swap.”

Demmy made a face, but nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He pulled out Cody’s phone and looked at the contact list. After scrolling for a moment, he gave Cody a look. “You’ve got a lot of ex-girlfriends in here still.”

“Really?” Cody said, crossing his arms and giving him a look in return. “Now?”

“Fine.” Demmy huffed and tried to hide a small smile as he tapped the screen. He put the call on speaker, and they all listened to it ring.

“Bonker, I can’t talk right now,” Jugs said.

“What’s going on?” Demmy said. “You okay?”

“Not sure, to be honest. Some weird dude is standing out on the sidewalk just staring at our house. I’m about to go out and tell him to fuck off.”

“Is Agatha with you?” Demmy asked.

“No, she’s at work. Just me and Enid Helen are here.”

“Can you get out the back door?”

“What the hell is going on?” Jugs drew in a breath and his voice dropped even lower. “Is this some more monster shit?”

Cody leaned in. “Just get your ass over to the old office and we’ll explain. And make sure you’re not followed.”

“Damn, Demetrius,” Jugs said. “You’ve been living with Bonker way too long. You’re starting to sound like him.”

The call ended.

“Think he’ll be okay?” Demmy asked as he stuck Cody’s phone back into his pocket.

“He’s pretty resourceful,” Cody said. “He’ll be all right.” He looked at Clarabell. “Who else can we check out?”

* * *

About an hour later, a soft knock at the back door made everyone freeze.

"That'll be Jugs," Cody said.

"Wait," Tracey warned. “Make sure.”

Cody gestured to the hex bags she’d set in each corner. “Won’t those protect us?”

“Briefly,” she said, “but if Baron was able to release that demon on his own, he’s more powerful than we knew.”

“I’ll check,” Cody said, approaching the back door. He looked through the peep hole and saw Jugs standing under the buzzing LED light above the door, cradling Enid Helen. Figuring the dog wouldn’t let Jugs hold her like that if he was possessed, Cody unlocked the door.

"Jesus, what the hell is going on now?" Jugs said, rushing inside. He stopped short at the end of the hallway and blinked when he saw everyone staring at him. "Uh, I mean… Wow, big turnout."

"Thanks for coming," Demmy said, walking up and clapping him on the shoulder.

Enid Helen barked, but she quieted when Jugs shushed her.

"Where's Agatha?" Cody asked.

"At the clinic," Jugs replied. "She took the other dogs with her today because Enid Helen keeps barking at them when they come near me.” He scratched her head. “She’s a little overprotective of her big bad daddy.”

“Good God,” Cody said. “Get a room.”

Jugs narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute. That sounded a lot like Cody.” He looked between them. “What’s going on? Who was that creepy dude outside my house? Why am I here? How did you all get in here?”

“Jugs ol’ buddy, let’s go in the break room for a minute and talk,” Cody said.

A short time later, Cody had finished catching Jugs up and answered as many of his questions as possible. Enid Helen had remained remarkably calm during it all, content to be in Jugs’s arms, her eyes half closed. When Jugs had asked again why they’d brought him there, Cody gestured to the main office space.

“Let’s go talk with the others,” he said and led the way out of the break room. “Jugs wants to know why we had him come here.”

"It’s because you’re a direct descendant of Abigail Brewster, one of the original witches who settled Parson's Hollow in the 1600s."

Jugs blinked. “I’m…what now?"

"A descendant," Tracey said. "Like me. And Margie from the diner. And Cody." She gestured toward him. “And Amelia.”

"Hold up," Jugs said, making a time-out gesture which earned a displeased grumble from Enid Helen. "Are you saying my great-great-whatever grandmother was a witch?"

"Yes. And we need you to help us trap a demon."

Jugs looked around the room as if searching for someone who might admit this was all an elaborate prank. “You’re talking about a demon. Like from Hell?"

"More like from another plane of existence," Tracey said. "But yes, basically a demon."

“It’s been possessing people throughout town,” Demmy said. “And trying to stop us. It seems to be able to find the descendants on its own.”

“It possessed the mayor,” Cody said. “And a tree.”

Jugs stared. “A tree ?” He looked around at the others, then at Demmy. “Bonker… what?”

Cody raised a hand. “Nope. I’m over here.”

Jugs looked at him, eyes even wider. “Chainsaw pancakes. This is all way too much.”

“Man up, dude,” Cody said. “You were a werewolf at one time.”

“He was?” Greg said, taking a step back from Jugs.

“He got over it,” Demmy said. “Like the rest of us.”

“Rest of you?” Alice said.

“Later, Mom,” Cody said, then looked to Jugs again. “We need your help, man. We can’t do this without you.”

“But what am I supposed to do about it? I don't know any spells or whatever."

"You don't need to," Clarabell assured him. "You just need to stand with the other descendants at the original church site and participate in the binding ritual."

"And if I say no?"

"Then the demon continues killing people, eventually burns through all available hosts, and either finds a way to permanently stay on this plane or returns to wherever it came from to gather strength," Tracey said bluntly. "Either way, more people die." Her expression hardened, and Cody saw grief flash across her face. “Like Heath. And Rita. And the mayor. And God knows who else.”

Jugs looked at Demmy. "Bonker, I don’t know.”

“Again, I’m over here," Cody said.

“Dammit!” Jugs fixed him with a wide-eyed look. “This is messing with my sense of reality.”

“You should be in our shoes,” Demmy said.

“Truer words,” Cody said, giving Demmy a quick smile before turning back to Jugs. “We really need you, Juggy Bear. We wouldn't have called you otherwise. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Don’t call me that.” Jugs scratched the top of Enid Helen’s head, thinking. Taking a breath, he squared his shoulders and nodded. "All right. I'm in. What's the plan?”

A scratching sound silenced the room. All eyes turned toward the glass front door of the office. A figure stood outside, a silhouette in the diffused glow from the lights in the parking lot behind it. As they watched, the figure once more ran long, wickedly pointed fingernails down the glass.

"Everyone back," Tracey said. "Stay away from the windows."

The scratching intensified, the fingernails now raking across the glass. The temperature in the office plummeted, their breath visible in the air. Tracey had placed hex bags around the office when they’d arrived, and one of the bags near the door began to smoke.

"The wards are holding," Tracey said, "but not for long."

The scratching stopped. The lights in the parking lot dimmed.

“Oh shit twice and call me Mabel,” Jugs said.

A voice—young and male but with something else layered beneath it, something ancient and hungry—spoke through the door.

"I know what you’re doing." It was Baron, but his voice had a hollow, echoing quality, as if speaking from the bottom of a well. "You know those cute little souvenir hex bags can't keep me out forever. Just let me in. Let me help you bind this demon.”

“The one you freed and can’t control?” Tracey called back. “Don’t think so.”

“Can’t control?” The figure moved to the big glass window. “Oh, I have a lot of control.”

Tracey snorted and crossed her arms, but didn’t say anything.

“Cody?”

The voice sent a shiver of dread through Cody. His stomach dropped, and a wave of anger and terror rushed from his head to his feet. Every muscle felt frozen in place as he tried to figure out if he’d heard it correctly. It was a trick, he knew that. It had to be.

“What the hell?” Greg said, and took a step toward the window. “Mom?”

“Dad, stay the fuck back,” Cody snapped. “It’s not Grandma.”

“Cody? Why did you leave me alone?” Felicia’s voice, shaky with fear, filtered through the glass. “You left me alone to die.”

“What?” Greg looked at him. “You said you were with her.”

“I was,” Cody said through gritted teeth, his eyes locked on the dark figure outside the glass. “He’s lying.”

Cody couldn’t think of what to do. He stood with hands at his sides, his entire body—Demmy’s body—thrumming with the need to be in action, to be moving, fighting, shutting that fucker’s face for good.

“I’m scared here,” Felicia’s voice continued. “I want to come back. Why can’t I come back?”

“This is awful,” Alice said, putting her hands over her ears. “I can’t listen to this.”

“You leave my mother out of this!” Greg shouted, taking a step toward the window. “You stay the fuck away from my family!”

“Dad, stay the hell back,” Cody said.

“Did you hear me?” Greg took another step toward the window. He pointed at the figure lurking just beyond the glass. “Stay the fuck away!”

An arm shot through the window, the hand tipped in long black claws, skin pale and hairless. It reached for him, the nails clicking as they came together an inch away from snagging the front of his jacket.

Cody and Demmy both grabbed an arm and yanked Greg back. As they watched, the arm twisted slightly, nails clacking and clicking together. The glass hadn’t broken; the witch had simply pushed his arm through the barrier.

“How?” Amelia said.

“He’s very powerful,” Tracey replied. “The wards are wearing thin. They won’t last much longer.”

Baron slowly drew his arm back. Once his hand slipped through the glass, the window was whole again.

“I can smell your fear,” Baron said, turning his head side to side. Light seemed unable to penetrate the space inside his hood, keeping his face draped in shadow. “I can taste it. Let me come inside. I can soothe that fear. Together we can stop this demon. Think of the power we’ll wield. A brand new coven, pulling energy from the crossroads. I can teach you how to wield the power of your ancestors, and together we’ll bring an age of magic to this town.”

“Swipe left,” Cody said. “But thanks.”

“Let me in !” The lights outside flickered as Baron slammed his palm against the door frame. The entire building shook from the impact, the glass vibrating. Cody wondered if the hex bags would be able to keep him out if the glass shattered.

Baron’s low chuckle scraped against Cody’s nerves. "The blood of the descendants runs strong in you. I don’t need much. Just a taste."

He took a step back and brought his hands together in front of him, palm to palm, one atop the other. Cody squinted and took a step back. Was he going to shatter the glass? Baron allowed some space between his palms and his fingers moved in sync, crooking and waving like a spider and its mirror image. The large window frosted over, ice crystallizing in unnatural patterns. As they watched, the frost formed symbols—unfamiliar sigils that made Cody’s eyes hurt.

"He's trying to work a breaking spell," Tracey said, her voice tight.

“Can he get inside?” Jugs asked.

“Maybe," Clarabell replied.

The frost symbols began to glow with a sickly purple light. The hex bag nearest the window burst into flames, causing everyone to cry out and step back.

Baron's voice rose in volume, no longer trying to sound human. “ Open the door! Your flesh will feed my power! "

He threw back his head and extended his arms to either side. Levitating several inches off the sidewalk, he floated, suspended before the window. The symbols brightened, the purple light pulsing like a terrible heartbeat. With his head tipped back, the skin of his throat was visible in the light from the lamps. His skin had turned ashen and cracked like dried mud with veins of black running beneath. He raised his head and, within the shadows obscuring his face, his eyes glowed with the same purple light as the frost symbols.

“What the fuck?" Cody said.

“He’s giving himself over completely,” Tracey said. “I don’t know if he’s even human anymore.”

“What is he?” Alice asked.

“Evil,” Clarabell said.

Baron suddenly went still. His head snapped around like a predator sensing danger. He lowered to his feet and turned toward the parking lot. The symbols that had been forming on the glass melted away.

A low chuckle echoed from somewhere in the darkness—deep, resonant, and utterly inhuman.

They all watched as Baron turned his back on them and stepped into the parking lot. The gray skin of his hands appeared even more washed out in the glow of the lights. Then something moved in the shadows at the edge of the parking lot and a figure stepped into view.

It was a sheriff's deputy. Male, tall, muscular. Cody didn't recognize him, but he moved with an unnatural grace that made the hair on the back of Cody’s neck stand up.