The Merciless (The Merciless #1)(23)

Besides, I can’t stay in the bathroom forever. I lick my thumb and wipe the blood from my knuckles. Then I push the door open.

The moonlight from the bathroom window illuminates Riley’s narrow shoulders and long, skinny arms. She cocks her head, and her dark curls pool on one shoulder. She looks just like a doll.

“Go back to the basement,” she says. “I need to take care of that.”

She nods at the bathroom. She’s holding a nail gun. She pushes past me to nail the last remaining exit in this house shut.

“Riley, think about this,” I say. Riley turns. She doesn’t smile, but the creases around her eyes and mouth soften. She takes my hand, squeezing just above my wrist.

“I know you’re scared, Sofia,” she says. “I know that’s why you tried to run. But if you’re not with me, you’re against me.”

She tightens her grip, just enough to pinch the skin at my wrist. I cringe and pull my arm away.

“I’m with you,” I say, glancing down at the nail gun.

“Good,” Riley says. “Now go.”

Shadows stretch across the hallway, making it hard to see where I’m going. I find a light switch in the kitchen and flip it on and then off, but nothing happens. Cursing, I push the basement door open, gripping for the banister in the dark. I feel for the top step with the toe of my sneaker.

Grace peeks around the concrete wall, hovering at the bottom of the stairs. “Are you coming down?”

“Grace,” I say, relieved. Shadows hide her face, so I picture the hollow, unfocused expression she wore on the porch. Alexis will side with Riley no matter what, but Grace is different. She can’t think what’s going on down there is okay. “I think Riley . . .”

The basement door opens behind me, cutting me off. I turn.

Riley steps onto the staircase. Only the outline of her narrow body is visible in the dim light. She pulls the door shut, and something metallic thumps against the wood. I shift my eyes to the door, noticing a thick padlock attached to the frame.

“What is that?”

“Riley put it up,” Grace says.

“We don’t want anyone sneaking in on us,” Riley adds.

I blink against the darkness. She clicks the lock closed, then slips the key into her pocket. She’s not locking everyone else out; she’s locking us in.

“Hurry up, girls,” Riley says, starting down the stairs. “We have work to do.”

Grace shuffles farther into the basement without a word. I follow, but every time I place my foot on a creaky step a new image flashes through my head: first the backpack filled with wine and holy water, then the windows nailed shut, and now the brand-new padlock attached to the door. It must’ve taken days to do all this, weeks maybe. I picture Riley nailing the upstairs window shut seconds before we all arrived at the house to drink wine and gossip about Josh, Riley stopping at the hardware store to buy a new padlock on the afternoon I walked to the tattoo parlor with Brooklyn. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans.

Alexis is crouched next to Brooklyn, whispering. She glances up as the three of us approach and pushes her wispy hair behind one ear. She’s surrounded Brooklyn with flickering candles. She motions to the one she’s still holding.

“I read that demons are afraid of fire,” she says, blinking her wide eyes.

“Good plan, Lexie,” Riley coos. “It’s like we’re surrounding her with a circle of light, to pull her away from the darkness.”

Riley squeezes my shoulder. “Yeah, good thinking,” I add, and she beams at me.

Alexis puts the last candle down on the floor and stands. “We’re all here now. We should get started.”

She reaches for my hand while Riley takes the other one. Together with Grace we form a semicircle around Brooklyn. I don’t want to look at her, but I don’t have a choice, so I lift my eyes.

A sweaty strand of white-blond hair hangs over Brooklyn’s face, fluttering around her nose every time she exhales. Thick black eyeliner runs down her cheeks like tears. I tighten my grip on Riley’s hand. We just have to get through the exorcism. This could still be okay.

“We have to be right with God before we can begin,” Alexis explains. Brooklyn shifts her combat boot–covered foot. The sole screeches over the concrete floor. “If we want him to drive the demon away, we have to confess our own sins and ask for his forgiveness.”

An uneasy silence stretches between us, broken only by the flames licking the candlewicks. I’m not sure I want to know their sins.

“I guess I’ll go first,” Grace says, fumbling with her sweatshirt zipper. She stares at her sneakers while she speaks, like she’s telling her story to them instead of us. “I need a scholarship in order to afford a good college, so I have to get perfect grades. Calculus has been kicking my butt, though, and last week I stole some of my little brother’s Ritalin. He has ADD, and the pills are supposed to help him concentrate. I figured they’d be good for studying.”

“Oh, Grace,” Riley says. “Why didn’t you tell us you were struggling?”

“I was embarrassed,” she says, dropping her hand from her zipper. “It was just once. They helped get me through the test, but I felt woozy the whole time. I’m never taking them again.”

Riley matches Grace’s gaze as she lifts her head. “Good.”