Alexis releases a shrill scream. “Riley, no!”
I jump to the landing as a shadow falls past the arched window overlooking the staircase. Something crashes into the bushes next to the house, sending a shudder through the floor. A thousand pins prick the back of my neck. I freeze on the landing.
“Oh, god.” Grace’s body stiffens behind me.
“What was that?” I whisper, terrified I already know. I don’t want to look, but I turn toward the window anyway and lean into the glass.
Alexis’s body lies crumpled in the dirt. Her white-blond hair glows in the dim moonlight, and a halo of blood pools around her head. I lift a trembling finger to the window, my breath misting the glass.
“Move,” I whisper to her broken body. But she doesn’t. She stares at the sky with milky, lifeless eyes. Her arm twists above her head, and her fingers curl toward her palm, almost like she tried to grab onto something as she fell. Her cracked lips hang open in a silent scream. Her final words echo through my head. Riley, no!
The door above us creaks open, and footsteps pad across the floor. I lift my head as Riley stops at the top of the stairs, her face white as death.
“Alexis jumped,” she says.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Riley wraps her fingers around the banister at the top of the staircase, her eyes unfocused.
“Our Father who art in heaven,” she whispers, barely loud enough to hear. A tear slips over her cheek. “Hallowed be thy name . . .”
“Don’t.” I step away from the window, hands trembling at my sides. “He’s not listening.”
“Sofia,” Grace murmurs. She tries to touch my arm, but I shake her hand away. I can’t stop thinking about Alexis’s cloudy eyes, her broken body, the way her fingers curled toward her palm. I don’t want to be comforted.
Riley considers me for a long moment, until the anger burning through my chest cools, just a little. “You’re grieving,” she says finally. “I get that. But we have to pray for the Lord to forgive Alexis’s sin.”
“No!” I shout. The word is a death sentence, but I don’t care. Maybe I want Riley to kill me next. “You’re wrong about everything. God’s not helping us. He’s not fixing Brooklyn, and he can’t forgive Alexis, not anymore.”
Riley’s feet pad down the stairs soundlessly. She crouches in front of me.
“You don’t know that, Sof,” she says, wiping a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “Come back up to the attic. We have to finish what we started.”
“The attic?” My voice sounds so shrill I hardly recognize it as my own. I swallow, trying to steady it. “We have to call the police. Alexis is dead.”
The word sounds so final as it echoes through the house.
Grace sobs into her hands. “Don’t say that,” she hisses through her fingers. “Maybe she’s just . . . just . . .”
“Stop it! Alexis is dead, Grace! She committed suicide.” Riley’s voice caresses that word. Suicide. It’s like she’s trying it out on us, seeing how the story sounds when she says it out loud.
“Think about it,” she continues. “What would happen if we brought the cops here now? What do you think they’ll do when they see Brooklyn? They’ll think we’re monsters. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in jail. Do you?”
Grace shakes her head. “Shit,” she whispers. She hangs her head and starts to cry, her movements already slow and clumsy from the wine.
Every emotion I’ve forced down since entering this house explodes out of me. I try to speak, but the most I can do is release a gasping, ugly sob. My chest tightens, and I cry like I’m five years old again, like it’s something I just discovered I could do.
“Sofia.” Riley grabs me by the shoulder and squeezes. “Sofia, you need to calm down.”
I can’t stop. I realize, for the first time, that none of us is ever going home. Even if I somehow get out of this house alive, I never get to return to my old life. Tears race down my cheeks as I heave and choke for breath. My head starts to feel fuzzy.
“Sofia, look at me.” Suddenly Riley’s voice is soft and even. My eyes flutter open, and I focus on her face, my lips trembling as I struggle to breathe.
Riley presses her lips together, considering me. The deep shadows under her eyes make her look older, wise even. She’s given up on the ponytail, and now her hair falls limply around her thin, angular face. It hides the bite mark on her cheek, so she looks almost normal. She squeezes my shoulders again.
“I know you don’t realize it now, but everything that’s happened is Brooklyn’s fault,” she explains. “The devil compelled Alexis to jump out that window. There’s nothing we can do for her now, but you need to be strong—you need to keep the devil from taking control of you, too.”
Keep the devil from taking control of me, too. The words echo in my head, meaningless, but I still feel my breathing begin to steady.
“There’s my girl,” she whispers. “Now, don’t worry. As soon as we beat this, we can all go home.”
“How?” I whisper. Riley wipes a tear from my cheek with her thumb. My skin burns where she touches it, but I try not to let my disgust show on my face. The only way out of here is through Riley. I have to be strong.
“We’ll figure it out. Some exorcisms are just trickier than others.” Riley stands, smoothing her bloodstained tank top. “Take a moment to catch your breath, then come back to the attic. All three of us need to be united if this is going to work. We might have to resort to extreme measures to defeat the demon.”
I nod numbly as Riley turns and walks back up the stairs and down the hallway. Grace crouches near the wall, so still she looks like a shadow.
“Are you ready?” Grace asks. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to go back up there, but I push myself to my feet and take a step toward her. She wraps a hand around my arm, and we walk down the hall together.
“What do you think Riley meant when she said extreme measures?” I ask before we reach the stairs to the attic. Grace blinks at me blearily. Her eyes are clouded over, and she can barely walk straight. When she speaks, her voice is raspy, almost a whisper.
“She meant that sometimes the host has to die.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Jesus, Sofia, go.” Grace pinches my leg, and the jolt of pain gets me moving. I climb up the last three ladder rungs, then pull myself into the attic. The room itself feels evil, like something twisted crawled into the spaces Alexis left behind.
Riley stares out the window at the far end of the room, one arm angled in front of her. Rope coils around her feet. I peer around the beam. Brooklyn lies, twisted, on the floor, her arms and legs untied. Her spiky blond hair is slicked with blood.
The attic door slams shut behind me. I whirl around in time to see Grace stand and wipe her dusty hands on her jeans.
“What’s going on?” I ask. Grace shifts her eyes to the floor.
Moonlight streams through the window, leaving the attic thick with shadows. I don’t see what Riley’s holding until she steps forward and candlelight illuminates her hands.
The nail gun.
Sometimes the host has to die. Just a few hours ago I’d have done anything to stop this. But now I hesitate, curling my fingers into fists. It’s Brooklyn’s life or mine. By helping her, I make myself Riley’s next target.
Brooklyn whimpers and tries to sit up.