Page 90 of Coven of Corpses

“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.”