Personal Demons

by Stacia Kane

  Maleficarum's voice soared over her terror, over the whole room, raised in song. It was beautiful but she barely heard it. How would she get back in? Was she dead, or traveling astrally, or what? Tears of panic ran down her cheeks. She tried touching her own hand, placing her head on her chest. It didn't work. “Come on!” she screamed, pounding her chest with her fists.

  Whether it was her scream, the pounding, or even Maleficarum's song she didn't know, but the thin red line that brought her back into the room reappeared, blazed, and engulfed her. The last thing she saw before everything went red was Brian Stone running into the room, followed by Tera Green and an army of figures swathed in black robes.

  * * * *

  Something slammed into her, deep inside her chest. Megan gasped and arched her back, it hurt, oh whatever it was hurt, she pushed against it but it burned, and she wanted to pull away but she couldn't...

  "Do it again!"

  Through the panicky haze of receding pain, she heard someone yelling. It sounded so familiar. She knew that voice.

  "I don't think this is working!"

  "God damn it, Brian, do it again or I will rip your fucking head off with my bare goddamn hands, do you—"

  More pain. Megan screamed. She pushed again, pushed against whatever it was grabbing her and yanking her swirling into dark agony, and suddenly she was in her body again, moving, rolling away. Her eyes opened. The walls of the Solithell's dining room swam into her vision. Sweet air filled her lungs, and she gulped it down. Her muscles ached. Pain shrieked from her left hand, but she was alive. Fully, completely, solidly alive.

  She only had a second to enjoy it before someone grabbed her, lifting her upper body from the floor and pressing her into a broad, flat, warm surface with crushing strength. She didn't need to catch a glimpse of his white face to know it was Greyson holding her.

  His heart pounded beneath the solid muscle of his chest. It sounded wonderful.

  Wait a minute. No, it didn't. Who did he think he was? He'd used her to try and overthrow Templeton Black. Why did he even care that someone as mediocre as herself was still alive?

  "Is she okay?” Tera's voice, calm but with an undertone of fear.

  "I think so.” Greyson pulled away from her, his hands trembling on her shoulders. “Are you okay? Meg, I have to tell you—"

  Megan smiled. “I'm fine.” She raised her right hand and slapped him across the face with all the strength she had.

  The sound of skin against skin echoed in the silence. Megan forced herself to a stand, a rather difficult maneuver without the use of her throbbing left hand, and brushed her right palm on her dirty skirt. “Now,” she said, looking at the destruction surrounding them, “what happened? Why are you guys here?"

  Brian blinked. “You don't know?"

  "If I knew, I wouldn't have asked.” Did she feel okay?

  She felt as if she'd been given a shot of adrenaline. Shaky and weak, but buzzing and confident, too. Even the sight of Art Bellingham's crumpled, discarded body in the corner didn't shake her as much as she would have imagined it would.

  "M'lady! M'lady!” The brothers’ faces, wet with tears, shone like beacons in the dimly lit room. Malleus grabbed her hand and squeezed. A little too hard; she had to tighten her lips to avoid a grimace. “We was so worried, we thought sure you weren't comin’ back, and we was so—"

  "Mr. Black, he locked us up, we couldn't get out in time to help you—"

  "Yeh, yeh."

  "And when we got up here, an’ we saw—"

  "Okay, okay.” She reached out with her free hand to pat each of them on the shoulder. “It's okay, guys. Thank you. You helped me find my body, that's what I really needed. You let me know somebody cared."

  "Well of course we cared, of course we do. And we're sorry we had to spy on you an’ tell Mr. Black what you was sayin’ in the park and all. We din't have no choice, y'see, he were—"

  "It's okay, guys. Thanks.” She looked at Brian, not wanting to upset the brothers but eager to hear his story. “What happened, please?"

  "Dante set it up. Last night, at the ball. He made me promise to come. And to call Tera before I did."

  "He told me about it on Thursday,” Tera said. “And I told them.” She gestured towards the black robes, two of whom now had a firm grip on Templeton Black.

  They didn't need to hold him very tightly. He was bound at the wrists and ankles with shiny black rope.

  "Why is he tied up?"

  "He's being arrested. He tried to sacrifice a human to bring the Accuser back. It's a pretty big no-no."

  "Why try it, then?” Megan turned away from Black as the black robes led him away. Her skin prickled under his furious gaze, but she ignored it. So Greyson had his way after all. Black was gone. He'd managed to use her and get rid of her in one smooth move.

  "Once it was done, nobody could prove it.” Tera shrugged. “And it would have been done, if—"

  "If Megan hadn't managed to somehow overpower the Accuser,” Greyson interrupted. He stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I assume, Megan, those little ones had something to do with your victory?"

  Megan turned around. The personal demons lined the walls, watching. She nodded. “They helped me. Gave me some of their power, and brought me back here."

  "We didn't bring you back.” Rocturnus stepped forward. “You had a line. We just helped you use it."

  "I couldn't have done it without you.” She smiled at the gnarled little demon. “Thank you."

  Greyson scowled. “If we're all done with the mutual admiration, can we wrap this up? I'm rather tired."

  He did look tired. Deep circles shadowed his dark eyes, and the clothes covering his lean body were rumpled and smudged.

  "I'm sorry,” Megan said. “Are we bothering you?"

  "Not at all. I'm just going to sit down. Let me know when you're done."

  "You do that.” She refused to watch him walk away, turning instead back to Brian and Tera, staring at her with identical furrowed brows.

  "Maybe we should all sit down,” Tera suggested. “And have something to eat or a drink or something."

  "The servants are all asleep,” Greyson said from the table.

  "Then I suppose we'll just have to serve ourselves.” Tera took Megan's hand and started to lead her toward the table, but Spud stepped in the way and, before Megan could stop him, scooped her up and carried her to a seat next to Greyson. Megan shook her head and pointed opposite. She did not want to be so close to him. Tera busied herself with glasses and bottles and Brian sat next to Megan. Greyson stayed where he was with his arms folded across his chest and an empty glass in front of him.

  Tera brought back drinks and handed them out. “Everybody gets wine,” she said. “I don't know what your preferences are."

  The red was fruity and spicy on her tongue, and warmth spread through her body as she swallowed. “Thank you.” She turned in Greyson's direction but didn't meet his eyes. “Where are the Fearbusters people?"

  "We sent them home.” He didn't look at her, either, which was just as well. Megan didn't think she could stand to see his eyes again. “As soon as you were gone."

  "They're okay?"

  He nodded.

  "Good. I was worried about them. What happened?"

  Greyson cleared his throat. “Temp made a deal. He thought if he handed you to the Accuser, he'd be able to control him. He was wrong. The Accuser had what he wanted—you—and he planned to use you. For what, I'm not sure, but I think we can bet it wouldn't have been pleasant.

  "They argued for a few minutes. Then the Accuser got angry. He left your body and changed to his pure physical form, which you saw. He was about to kill Temp when you came back and did whatever it was you did to defeat him."

  "I used the personal demons’ power."

  Rocturnus, sitting on the floor a few feet away under the watchful gaze of Malleus, Maleficarum, and Spud, cleared his throat. “It's your power now, Megan."

  "Excuse
me?"

  "Our power. It became yours, when you bound us to you."

  Megan finally broke the silence. “Say that again?"

  "You bound us to you. When you released us from the Accuser. You held the string. We pulled you out of him, but you didn't let go. It was still wrapped around you when you re-entered your body and that man—” he pointed at Brian—"did the power transfer to bring you back to life. Besides, you promised us back when you bound us to the Accuser that one day you'd save us. Now we're yours."

  "But—but you can't be,” Megan said, spluttering. Don't forget what you promised ran through her head. That day in the shower, after the zombie attack. She'd been trying to remember it all. She just hadn't put the pieces together. “You're, I mean, you've been very nice to me and all, but you're demons. I'm human. And I'm a psychological counselor. My job is to fight you, to help people get rid of you."

  "You're not entirely human,” Greyson mumbled.

  "What?"

  He leaned back, looking at his hand holding the stem of his wineglass as if the words he was about to speak were written on it. “You're not entirely human. The Accuser left some demon in you the first time you met him. And you kind of ... grew over it, I guess is the best description. You're not demon, but you have demon, if that makes sense. That's why you could bind them to you."

  "Okay, either I haven't had enough to drink or you've had way too much,” Megan said. “Or is this another fun little game of yours? Another round of ‘let's laugh at Megan'?"

  "Are you going to use your head and listen to me, or are you going to keep up with this petty revenge?"

  "You mean my mediocre mind?"

  "Fucking—fuck!” Greyson stood up and threw his glass across the room. It shattered on the wall in an explosion of crystal shards, leaving a purplish stain on the damask wallpaper as the wine ran down. The others gasped. He glared at them, his face dull red.

  "It's your vocabulary that impresses me most,” Megan said.

  Greyson shot her a dirty look and strode out of the room, slamming the heavy door behind him.

  "Megan, don't you think you're being a bit hard on him?” Tera asked.

  "I don't think I'm being hard enough,” Megan snapped. “After what he did to me—"

  "What, save your life?” Brian leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table. He still looked pale. “Megan, you do know he saved your life, don't you? You felt his energy bring you back?"

  Greyson's energy. Greyson's line.

  He'd kissed her before they entered the room, shoved his power into her body. Not to give her a boost, but to bind her to him somehow. To create the line.

  She'd seen the flames. She'd seen the sparks die out right before she appeared in the personal demon's hall.

  His energy sent her there, his line brought her back. She swallowed. “Brian. What did he tell you about tonight? How did he get you to come?"

  "He told me you'd probably die if I didn't show up. He took my watch. I could focus on it, because it was mine. It's one of the ways my abilities work. With him wearing it, and me focused on it, he could let me know when I needed to be here. As soon as you guys finished eating he said it was time. I called Tera. And we came so I could do the power transfer."

  "You came to do the power transfer,” Tera said. “I came—with the other Vergadering—because Greyson told me at our meeting Thursday morning what he thought Templeton had planned and to be ready. When Brian called, I was expecting it, and so were they."

  Of course. She'd known that watch Greyson wore wasn't his. She just hadn't been able to recall where she'd seen it before—on Brian's wrist, at the ball.

  "That still doesn't excuse what he said to me,” she mumbled.

  "Megan, the man was fighting for both your lives,” Tera said. “If Templeton found out what he'd done, he would have been killed, and so would you. You made it obvious how you felt. He had to do something to make Templeton think he didn't care about you. And to get you angry, since your power flares when you get mad. As you know."

  "He used me. He seduced me to use my power to overthrow Templeton Black. He just wanted to take over the Meegra."

  She smiled faintly for a moment. “He's going to have an awfully hard time taking over, after ratting Templeton out to us. He did that for you."

  Megan couldn't remember ever feeling this bad about anything. “And I slapped him,” she said.

  "That was a pretty good slap, too,” Brian said, looking very satisfied. “I didn't think you had it in you."

  "You thought I might have killed somebody once,” she said, but her mind wasn't on the argument.

  "And you thought I was probably working for Bellingham and would write all sorts of horrible rumors about you in the magazine."

  The smile came to her lips unbidden, but once it was there Megan discovered it felt good. She liked Brian, despite the differences they'd had, the differences they still had.

  He smiled, too. “Call it even?"

  She nodded, and he leaned over to plant a small kiss on her cheek. “It'll be a great article,” he said.

  "Oh. I'd forgotten about that."

  "What? Oh, yeah, your profile. That will be great, but I'm thinking of the article I'll write about this. Art Bellingham, forcing the Fearbusters clients to perform dark occult rituals, almost killing them in the process ... and Megan Chase, Dr. Demon Slayer, rushing in to the rescue. With a little help from—” he glanced at Tera, who shook her head slightly. “A little help from me, and nobody who is supernatural in any way,” he finished.

  Tera smiled. “Sounds great, Brian. I hope you'll send me a copy when it's done."

  "I'll be sure to do that, if you promise not to try and hypnotize me ever again."

  "Deal."

  Brian poured more wine, but Megan picked up her glass and excused herself. She had someone else she needed to talk to.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  He sat on the floor in the hall, his back against the wall and one leg stretched in front of him. The other was bent so he could rest a bottle on his knee. His eyes were closed when she entered the hall, but as she pulled the door shut behind her he opened one, then closed it again.

  "Oh, it's you."

  Megan stood for a minute, watching him. “You have a right to be angry,” she said finally. “But so do I."

  "Spare me the counseling speak."

  "Oh, spare me the tortured, misunderstood bit,” she snapped. “I came out here to apologize. If you don't want to hear it, that's fine with me."

  He opened his eyes. “I suppose Tera and Brian have been filling your head with breathtaking tales of my heroic deeds."

  "Something like that."

  "Pure exaggeration. Like I said, I've never had any interest in being a hero."

  She sat down next to him and took the bottle. “So that was all self-preservation. And a plan to take Templeton's place."

  He shrugged. “It was a pretty good plan, you have to admit."

  Megan almost stood back up and left, but something flickered in his eyes when he glanced at her and she knew she had to try. Yes, maybe he had made her part of his plan. That didn't mean he didn't care. And no, he wasn't the kind of man who committed himself. That was fine. She didn't expect a commitment, not after a week. Nor did she especially want the hassle at this point, either, not with a budding radio career on top of her practice, and especially not with the additional publicity bound to come when Brian's “Fearbusters occult” story broke.

  Besides, she was used to having time to herself. She enjoyed being alone. Most of the time.

  She raised the bottle to her own lips, drank, and set it deliberately back on the ground.

  "Just tell me one thing. Why did you send me to the personal demons? And how did you know it all?"

  "That's two things."

  Megan raised her eyebrows and waited.

  "Because I knew what they wanted,” he said, after a pause. “They obviously weren't trying to kill you, or they would
have done it before I got involved. They couldn't have created those zombies, either. Something had to be behind it, something with enough power to create multiple fast-moving zombies. Not many creatures have that kind of strength. I already knew you had demon in you; I discovered that back when I kissed you the first time. You knew the Accuser was after you. You just didn't know his connection to the Yezer Ha-Ra."

  "And you didn't tell me."

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  He shrugged and looked away, but Megan didn't let him get away with it. She grabbed his hand in her left, and used her right to tilt his face back towards her. “Greyson."

  He didn't meet her eyes at first. Megan waited, barely daring to breathe. She hadn't said or done anything to be ashamed of ... yet. If she was wrong she could just get up and leave.

  "Damn it,” he whispered, just before his arms went around her and his lips met hers with bruising strength.

  His hands caressed her face, then slid back to tangle in her hair, stroking her neck, pulling her closer to him. The angle was awkward but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything at that moment, not even the gang of tiny demons in the other room waiting for her orders.

  Together they slid over, Greyson's hand supporting the back of her neck to rest her on the floor. The icy cold of the marble seeped through her clothes to her back, but Greyson's weight like a banked furnace above her countered it nicely. His tongue slid into her mouth and she welcomed it, raising her chin, returning his passion with equal intensity.

  It was several breathless minutes before he pulled his mouth away from hers and pressed his cheek to hers, so his lips rested just next to her ear. “I couldn't tell you, bryaela. I was sure I knew what Temp had planned, and I knew the Accuser was going to read you when he ... invaded you. I couldn't take the risk of him knowing and maybe paying more attention to where he sent you. He had to be careless, so I could use your anger to give you to the Yezer Ha-Ra."

  "I know,” she whispered back. “I know now."

  "And I had to make you angry. They were lies, Meg. You know they were. What I said."

  She nodded. “It's okay."