Page 65 of Coven of Corpses

Cody looked between them, and Demetrius could clearly see the panic in his body’s expression. “Bag. She had one hex bag, that’s it. It wasn’t like she was making them for the whole town or anything. Maybe someone gave it to her, or she bought it at a flea market or something.”

“You’re the third descendant.” Clarabell’s voice was quiet. Then she looked at Demetrius. “Well, both of you, most likely, seeing as how you’re split.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, this town is going to kill me.” Cody put his hands over his face. “I’m going to literally just sit here and die.”

Demetrius took a breath and slowly let it out. “Okay. Three descendants and a coven of corpses. Sounds about right. What’s our next move?”

Clarabell stood up. “We need to find the other two descendants. And then we need to find that demon before it figures out our plan and starts eliminating people.”

Cody dropped his hands. “Wait. What?”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The day had been long and shitty, prompting Cody to briefly check out of the conversation with Clarabell. He was moving Demmy’s body, talking in his voice, and using his brain to think. At least, he thought that’s what he was doing. At that moment, he wasn’t really sure what was happening. He was extremely dysregulated—a word he’d learned from Ollie, of all people. He knew he was experiencing one of the most intense episodes of dissociation anyone had ever encountered. After all, he was sitting on Clarabell’s couch, watching his body pace on the other side of the coffee table.

The situation was crazy, but the potential life-altering fallout much more serious. If he was able to see Demmy’s memories, that meant Demmy could see his, and he really didn’t want him to have unlimited access to his memories. He had nothing to hide. No affairs or smack talk about Demmy or his family, but it was the ultimate invasion of privacy. He didn’t want Demmy delving into memories Cody had of his time dating women.

Or those few dates with other men.

For his part, he’d done a pretty good job of resisting the urge to peek much further than he already had into Demmy’s memories. The things he had seen had risen to the surface of his mind, as if Demmy kept them close, like touchstones.

He was definitely not allowing himself to consider the possibility they wouldn’t be able to reverse this. That kind of thinking wouldn’t do them any good.

His phone buzzed in the pocket of his jeans. He grumbled and shifted position to pull it out. Grant’s name was on the screen, and he tapped the button to decline the call. Seconds after he’d set the phone on the arm of the couch, it buzzed again. Demmy stopped pacing and looked over.

“Who is it?”

“Grant.” Cody tapped the decline button again. “Probably wondering when we’re coming home and making them dinner.”

“Or it could be something else,” Clarabell said, glancing between them before focusing on Cody. “That demon knows your identities. It’s going to be looking for you.”

The phone buzzed again.

“Son of a plumber,” Cody grumbled. He picked up the phone and held it in front of him. It didn’t unlock, and he scowled as he shook it slightly. “It’s not opening.”

“That’s because it’s my face,” Demmy said, extending his hand. “Give it to me.”

“You need to talk to him anyway,” Clarabell said. “Because as far as the Bower family is concerned, you’re Cody.”

“Yeah, I know,” Demmy said, taking the phone.

“Act annoyed to be talking to him or he’ll get suspicious,” Cody said.

Demmy frowned, cleared his throat, then accepted the call and put it on speaker. “Hey Grant, what’s going on?”

“Codes, hey, bro, got a minute to talk?”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, man, things are cool. Just wanted to gnaw the fat with you a mome.”

Demmy frowned, and Cody had to hide his smile behind a hand. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Gnaw the fat, man,” Grant said. “It’s a saying.”

“You mean chew the fat?” Demmy said. “The actual saying that people recognize?”

“It’s all the same, Codes.”