16. Camryn

SIXTEEN

CAMRYN

Gwen lets me in with a wide smile on her black-painted lips. "I couldn't believe it when you messaged me to ask for my address."

I toe off my shoes in the hallway. "I'm sorry it's so early. I didn't even think you'd be awake."

She shrugs, dressed in a leather skirt, a purple tank top, and a black choker. "I've struggled to sleep since…"

Benny's death.

We stare at each other for a brief moment while the first rays of sunrise peek through the curtains.

"C'mon, this way." Gwen walks past me, and I hike my bag higher onto my shoulder as I follow her upstairs to her bedroom.

Dropping my bag onto the floor, I take in the purple walls and even deeper purple curtains. A gray, fluffy blanket lies pooled on the quilt, and a pile of clothes litters the chair in the corner. Her desk is a biohazard with piles of textbooks, empty soda cans, and various small potted plants.

Behind me, my reflection is barely visible between the countless photographs taped to a freestanding mirror. I study them in silence while Gwen sits down on the bed.

"Most of them are from last year."

"I like this one of you all."

She walks up behind me and peers over my shoulder at the photograph of them all at the beach. "Benny got stung by a jellyfish that afternoon." Her voice drips with grief.

My chest clenches. "I'm sorry about your loss."

"It's not your fault."

"I know," I reply, wringing my hands as her cherry scent thickens around me, "but maybe we shouldn't have done the séance."

"You think the séance is behind what happened?"

I turn around. "Maybe. Have you noticed anything weird since that day?"

Gwen walks back to her bed and plops down, her faraway gaze set on the woods outside. "The trees whisper." Tears cling to her lashes as she lowers her gaze. "The wind..."

"It sings," I finish for her.

She lifts her eyes and observes me for a beat before swiping at her tears. "Let's skip school today. We need to find answers."

"What answers?" I ask as she reaches for her phone on the bedside table.

She types out a few messages, then puts the phone down beside her and leans back on her hands. "We need to find out what happened to Benny."

When I stay silent, she looks past me. "He wasn't suicidal."

"I didn't know him that well."

"But I did."

Instead of replying, I sit down beside her in silence. Seconds tick by. We get lost in our thoughts. She nudges my shoulder and flashes a weak but playful smile. "Your stepbrother gave you the ‘D,' then?"

Cringing, I look away, but the sweet notes of her laugh draw my attention back, and I can't help but join in. I shove her away, and she comes right back, pulling me into her arms with a genuine smile. "I'm happy for you."

"Don't be," I reply.

She frowns. "Why not?"

"He's just…intense."

"Good intense or ‘Gwen kill him for me' intense?"

"Definitely good intense, but also scary intense."

Her eyes bounce between mine, and then her smile grows impossibly wide. "Oh, you have it bad."

"I don't have it bad." A chuckle of disbelief bubbles up from my chest. "I don't," I repeat, trying to convince myself.

"Is that why you're blushing?"

Shaking my head, I shove her away. "I'm not blushing."

"You so are." She leans back on her hands. "He's been all over you lately. I'm surprised he let you leave his side to come here."

My cheeks burn, and her eyes widen.

"You sneaky devil. He doesn't know."

"He is kind of suffocating." I lift a shoulder and let it fall. "I needed some breathing room for a few hours."

"Well, you came to the right place." She toys with a strand of my hair, a soft smile gracing her lips. "He would be silly not to be obsessed with you."

Heat crawls up my neck, and I open my mouth to speak, when the doorbell sounds. Gwen's fingers fall away from my hair as she stands up. "The cavalry has arrived."

Streaks of sunshine pour in through the open window. Gwen lights the candle beside the spirit board. Aron jiggles his knee, chin propped on his clasped hands.

Seated on my right, Lily looks white as a sheet while staring at the flickering flame before she tears her eyes away and directs her attention to Gwen. "Maybe we shouldn't do this."

Aron shoots her a hard glare.

Gwen sits down across from us and stares at the letters on the board. Her voice lacks anticipation. "What other choice do we have? We need answers."

"Benny was suicidal." Lily lowers her gaze.

Seated beside Gwen, Brittany stares at the candle.

"You know he wasn't," Gwen pushes. "You know it."

Lily lifts her gaze. "I don't know anything."

They stare at each other.

It's Aron who finally sighs before placing his finger on the skull dial. "Let's just do this."

I sense him beside me—stiff and uncomfortable, his knee bouncing relentlessly.

Steeling myself, I place my finger next to his on the dial. We exchange a glance.

"Let's just get it over with," Brittany says, and she and Gwen touch the planchette, too.

Lily hesitates, eyes downcast. "This is wrong."

Aron's jiggling knee brushes up against mine, causing my throat to close up. He radiates violence—a time bomb that's seconds away from detonating.

"Please," Gwen pleads, softening her features. "We need you, Lily. You're the glue that keeps us together."

Seconds pass before she reluctantly sits forward and puts her finger on the dial.

"Okay…" Gwen says on a long exhale. "Let's close our eyes and take a few deep breaths."

I rub my sweaty palm on my lap while inhaling deeply through my nose and exhaling through my mouth. A small voice whispers at the back of my mind how reckless this is, but I blank it out.

Now is not the moment for regrets.

Gwen's haunted voice assaults the silence. "Are there any spirits present that wish to communicate with us?"

My heart thuds hard as the seconds tick by.

Undeterred, Gwen tries again, "We welcome you to our circle."

Nothing happens.

Beside me, Aron shifts in his seat, his spicy scent filling the air.

"What happened to Benny?"

"Just fucking show yourself, you pathetic coward," Aron growls, and I open my eyes.

He glares at the candle, waiting and watching like me for it to flicker or, even better, blow out like last time. When nothing happens, he shoots to his feet and kicks the chair, causing Lily to yelp.

"He wasn't suicidal!"

Pacing back and forth, he pulls the hairs at his nape.

"He fucking wasn't." He points a finger at the spirit board on the table. "This proves nothing."

"Aron," Gwen tries, her eyes glassy with tears.

He sends her a glare and stops pacing. "You know he wasn't suicidal."

She remains quiet, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and simply watches him with sad eyes while he unravels before us.

"I was his best friend. If anyone knew him, it was me." He jabs at his chest. "Don't you think he would have said something or given some kind of clue if he was suicidal?"

"He wasn't suicidal," I speak up. "And he wouldn't kill someone."

All eyes land on me, and I drop my gaze as my cheeks burn. I clear my throat. "Weird things have happened since my family moved into that house. Whatever that…thing is," I say, fidgeting with my hands, "it stalks me through others."

"What do you mean?" Brittany asks.

I sniffle. "It has taken an…interest in Dominic's obsession with me."

No one speaks, and I keep my gaze on my lap.

"While Benny was on the roof, he shouted something to me." I peer through my lashes at Aron. "It said, ‘ his obsession with you is delicious.' " I sweep my gaze around the table. "That's what Mr. Jones said and what Dominic once said when this…thing entered him."

"I remember that day," Gwen says. "Something happened to you. You went pale and clammy, and then you freaked out on Mr. Jones. We thought it was a heatstroke."

"Wait a minute. Slow down." Aron tugs harder on his hair. "What do you mean by ‘ this thing entered him.' "

"I mean exactly that. Whatever this entity is, it taunts me through others."

"So it can enter our bodies?"

"Potentially," I reply.

When Aron looks at me again, I explain, "Sometimes, it takes charge, like in Benny's case. Other times, it's visions in my head, like with Mr. Jones."

"So what's stopping it from entering our minds right now? What's it waiting for?" Brittany asks as my phone vibrates on the table.

Where the hell are you?

My heart jumps to my throat, but before I can click out of the screen, another message pops up.

Don't fuck with me, Camryn. You won't like the consequences.

I quickly dim the screen and place the phone back on the table while the others continue discussing the ‘demon.'

The gnawing unease inside me refuses to shift. Dominic is on the warpath. I better run for my life when he finds me, because there's no telling how deeply rooted his darkness is. Something warns me that I've barely scratched the surface.

"It's that fucking house," Aron grumbles, dragging his hand over his mouth. "I say we burn it down."

My head snaps up. "No, you can't do that. Where would we go?"

"That's what you worry about? Benny is dead, but no, all you care about is your fucking house."

Behind me, Brittany rises to her feet and walks over to the kitchen counter while I gnash my teeth.

"I know you're hurting, Aron," I bite out, "but burning down my house isn't the answer."

"No?" He crosses his arms, his biceps bulging as he leans forward slightly. "It's always been that damn house and all the rumors."

I open my mouth to respond, but pause when the lace curtains billow in a gentle breeze. Tendrils of hair tickle my cheeks, and chills erupt over my heated skin as a whisper dances across my shoulders.

"Camryn…"

My attention drifts to Brittany, and I watch in horror as she calmly places her hand inside an electric meat grinder on the counter.

With my heart thrashing against my ribcage, all other sounds fade into the background. Meanwhile, the others are none the wiser, arguing amongst themselves.

"Brittany," I breathe shakily, rising to my feet. "What are you doing?"

Silence falls over the room as the others follow my line of sight.

Lily cries out, and Gwen remains frozen in place. Aron has turned a sickly pale.

"You don't want to do this." I fight to keep my voice steady. "You're stronger than…him."

It.

Brittany cocks her head to the side and her pupils dilate until the black swallows the white. I come to a halt, my heart threatening to claw its way out of my chest.

"That's where you're wrong." The tone of her voice is distorted and dripping with twisted amusement. "Brittany never stood a chance."

I step closer, sweat sticking to my nape. "What do you want?"

"Don't pretend you don't know. Naivety isn't a good look on you."

"Please don't do this," I beg. "Please, I'm begging you."

Her nostrils flare when she breathes in the air. She fixes those black eyes on me, and I suppress the fear that threatens to immobilize me.

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.