The Merciless (The Merciless #1)(26)

Water drips from Brooklyn’s hair.

“Keep going,” Riley urges, and Alexis clears her throat.

“From the snares of the devil, free us, Lord,” she continues, a little less enthusiastically than before.

Riley pours the salt in her hand and throws it. I flinch when the salt hits Brooklyn’s face, but she squeezes her eyes shut and turns, so it mostly hits her hair. A few tiny white crystals cling to her wet cheeks and the corner of her mouth. Brooklyn runs her tongue along her lips.

“Next time get me some tequila and a lime to go with that,” she says. I bite back a smile.

“Heathen,” Riley hisses. She pours another handful of salt into her palm and whips it into Brooklyn’s face. This time it catches her in the nose and mouth. Brooklyn swears under her breath, trying to blink the salt from her eyes. Riley throws another handful at her, and then another. When the jar is almost empty, she drops to the floor, her knees inches from Brooklyn’s.

“This isn’t enough for you, is it?” Riley wraps her fingers in Brooklyn’s hair and yanks her head back, forcing her to look up. The corners of Brooklyn’s eyes crinkle.

“Riley.” I take a step toward her. This isn’t funny anymore. Even Alexis stops reading.

“This isn’t how we’re supposed to do it,” Alexis says, her voice wavering for the first time. The defiance fades from Brooklyn’s eyes.

“Can’t you see what she’s doing?” Riley says. “She’s laughing at us.”

Riley releases Brooklyn’s hair roughly and stands. Her eyes dart to the cross hanging from Alexis’s neck. I’m the only one watching Brooklyn, and I see her square her shoulders and jerk her hands apart to loosen the ropes. I want to help her, but when I take a step toward her, Brooklyn moves her head back and forth, then looks pointedly at the staircase. I frown, but I understand what she’s trying to tell me. We’re locked down here and it’s three against one. I can’t afford to challenge the others yet.

“We need something stronger,” Riley says, leveling her gaze on Alexis’s necklace. “That. Alexis, let me borrow your cross.”

Alexis hands me her Bible without a word. She finds the chain at her neck and fumbles with the clasp. The cross drops into her hand. She holds it out for Riley.

Riley lifts the cross by its chain. “Thanks, Lexie,” she says. Riley lets the cross swing, pendulum-like, before Brooklyn’s eyes.

“I exorcize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” she says. They’re almost the same words she used to baptize me.

Brooklyn watches the cross sway. Her angry red eyes flick back to Riley. Riley’s expression tightens. She pulls back her arm and whips the cross over Brooklyn’s face. The chain flashes through the air, landing with a smack. The cross cut deep into Brooklyn’s cheek, leaving a thin red line across her skin. A single drop of blood oozes down her face, like a tear.

I take a step back. “God,” I say under my breath. Any hope I had that this might not get violent drains away. We have to get out of here. Now.

“Let’s try this again,” Riley says.

Suddenly Brooklyn shifts her weight to the side and whips her bound legs out from under her, ramming a combat boot into Riley’s shin. Riley slams into the concrete, her wrist twisting beneath her body when she hits the floor. The cross clatters out of her hand.

“Bitch!” Riley sweeps the hair from her face and pushes herself onto all fours, wincing as she eases weight onto her wrist. Grace moves to help, but Brooklyn slams her feet into Riley again, this time striking her in the ribs. Riley collapses into Alexis, and the two of them stumble to the floor, knocking over a tea candle. The flame sputters and dies.

If it weren’t for the lock on the basement door, this would be the perfect time to run. The muscles in my legs tense, but I hold myself still. By the time I think of tackling Riley and stealing the key, she’s already standing again.

Brooklyn’s sharp laughter fills the basement. Her eyes flicker with red light, and even though it must be the reflection of the candlelight, they look like they’re glowing. “Riley, I think it’s working!” she shouts. “I think I’m saved!”

“Oh my god.” Grace bunches her hands near her mouth. “Alexis, your sweater!”

A curl of smoke twists away from Alexis’s back, growing thicker as it drifts toward the ceiling. Orange and blue flames lick at the tiny white hearts along her sweater’s hem.

“Shit, Lexie, you’re on fire!” I say.

Alexis twists around, screaming when the fire catches on her sleeve. She tries to pull the sweater off, but her hands shake so badly she can’t seem to work the buttons.

I grab her arm and yank at the cardigan, not caring when the buttons pop off and clatter to the ground. Alexis flings it away from her body as the fire climbs up the sleeve. The sweater lands on another candle a few feet away, still crackling. The flames eat at a tiny pearl button, and the smoke around it fills the basement with a hazy gray cloud.

Grace mutters a string of curses under her breath. She pulls her sweatshirt up over her mouth and stomps the fire out with her sneaker. The fire dies, but the smoke remains. Grace wraps her arms around Alexis’s shoulders, pulling her into a hug.

“Shh, you’re fine,” Grace whispers.

Brooklyn leans against the pillar and takes a shaky breath. “I needed a cigarette, but I guess this will do.”