Stacia Kane - Personal Demons

Which pissed her off. Which made Templeton's anger seem to grow around her. If she opened up to it, she could probably suck it in, direct it back at him. What had Tera taught her about pulling energy in from outside sources?

"Oh, Megan," Art said. "You'll spoil your digestion if you let negative emotions fester within you, you know. You don't want your last memory on earth to be of stomach cramps, do you?"

"Go to hell."

Art laughed. "How ineffectual."

The servants brought in the food, another feast Megan could hardly stand to touch. When had she last enjoyed a meal?

Other than this morning's French toast, which she didn't want to even think about thinking about, it was the pie she'd made for the brothers. Now she would never see them again, their crinkled faces smiling proudly at her ... she pressed her palm against her forehead, trying to push the memory away, and elbowed her plate out of her line of vision.

Greyson didn't seem to be very hungry, either. Whenever she dared to peek at him, he was looking down, or playing with his fork, or checking his watch. Odd that he'd worn a watch. He hadn't at the ball, and she had the feeling he would regard this dinner as formal enough to leave it off.

In fact ... that wasn't his watch. It had a leather band. Greyson's watch was silver. She'd seen it on his wrist a few times, shiny and expensive. Why was he wearing a watch not his own?

He caught her looking and scowled, pulling his sleeve over the watch and dropping his hand to his lap. She scowled back. Jerk. He was an asshole, and she was an idiot for believing him. What was wrong with her? Why had she trusted him, even for a second? He was a demon. What in the world had made her think one night was worth this, was worth anything?

To think she'd been upset when they tortured him, to think she'd almost given in to him up there in his room. Good thing she hadn't, the creep. She didn't need his friendship or his affection. His body? Well ... he didn't do anything a good vibrator couldn't do.

Except make her feel beautiful.

Fuck him.

Conversation died down while everyone ate. Now, as silverware started to clink against empty china, talk picked up again.

Megan's stomach fluttered and tightened. It was all very easy for Greyson to say he was calm because there was nothing he could do, but Megan didn't feel that way at all. She felt as if her skin was about to crawl away, as if her heart would leap out of her chest and take her brain with it. She felt like she was about to die. Which made sense, since she probably was. And they all just sat and ate like nothing out of the ordinary or particularly interesting was about to take place.

She couldn't beat the Accuser. She hadn't succeeded when she was sixteen or he wouldn't be back here again. She'd only managed to send him away for a little while and erase the entire thing from her mind. She couldn't do that again, either. She didn't think she wanted to go on living, knowing she would have to do this again in another fifteen years. What kind of future was that to have? Watching the days and months tick past, every minute gone a minute of freedom lost?

These thoughts seemed to take a long time to go through her head, but only a few seconds had passed when Templeton cleared his throat.

"Well," he said, addressing the entire table. "We have a few more guests waiting outside and then we're going to have cause to celebrate. As you all know, I've been waiting for years for the opportunity to set Meegra Sorithell apart, to broaden our power. It is the dream of every Gretneg to conquer the other families. Tonight, we will succeed.

"I am sure you all know by now who our guest is." He nodded at Art, who smiled back. Sweat ran down Megan's temple. "Some say he is only legend ... certainly the Vergadering believed it and the other Meegras believe it. Even now they doubt. They have no idea what awaits them when he stands behind us, when he inhabits a body wearing our colors and his power is ours to use. My rubendas , tonight we will make that happen."

The cage Greyson had earlier been chained to descended from the ceiling again. A body wearing our colors ... Art Bellingham would invade her body again. She had a feeling this time he wouldn't let her stay in there, too.

Well, fine. If this was going to happen, let it happen. She'd fight as best she could, but if she didn't win, she didn't win. At least she went down trying.

What had Tera said about pulling in power? So many memories leapt through her panicked mind, it was hard to pick one out. Megan tried to calm down, to stop thinking and remember. Remember what Tera said, remember what she knew about the Accuser.

He feeds on despair . She'd been pretty upset that day she met him, hadn't she? Despairing. That made it easier for him. If she was convinced he would win ... he would win, wouldn't he?

The opposite of despair was hope. Determination. Would that defeat him?

The servants opened the wide double doors. Templeton smiled. "Ah. Our guests."

Megan didn't expect to see the other Meegra heads—they obviously didn't know what Templeton was up to. But she absolutely did not expect to see the people who entered now, gazing around themselves in awe.

The Fearbusters clients. All of them. Grant the psychic teenager. Hanna, the lonely woman in another faded-looking dress. Tall, angry Bob. Joe, who looked even more nervous than he had when she'd met him. And Kevin, Kevin who'd started it all.

The atmosphere in the room changed when they walked in, projecting so strongly that for a minute Megan felt as if she was them, each of them. But instead of the images she'd received at Fearbusters, the mundane pictures of their lives, this time she saw the same thing in all of them. The Accuser. His face hovered over them, his energy pervaded theirs. Their personal demons overshadowed them and the Accuser overshadowed the demons, so completely Megan couldn't imagine how these people still lived. They were empty shells.

Had they been this bad at Fearbusters? Or had Art somehow kept her from seeing it then?

"Megan, you remember my clients? And I'm sure you all remember Megan Chase. Megan has agreed to help me tonight, when you all graduate."

Megan's fingernails dug into her palms. What the hell was he planning, why were these people here?

"Hi, Dr. Chase," they all mumbled. Grant was uneasy, probably because of his abilities. He could feel something was wrong here, even though the others couldn't.

"Why don't you all sit down here," Art said, indicating the floor by his feet. "We'll dim the lights, and you can start your special graduation affirmation as soon as you feel comfortable."

"Mr. Art, I'm a little nervous," Grant said, sitting close to Hanna. "I don't feel ready."

"Don't you worry, Grant. I say you're ready. Soon, everything will be very different for you, I promise."

Megan wanted to scream. To warn them, to do something. She opened her mouth and started to stand, only to be shoved back down by Templeton Black.

"Don't try anything. If you cooperate, he'll let them live. If you don't..."

"Well done, Temp," Greyson said. Megan's head snapped up to look at him. He looked cool and calm as man holding four aces. "She's a little slow, our Megan. Best to spell everything out so her sad human brain can understand."

"It's a bit better than human," Templeton replied.

Greyson shrugged. Megan stared at him, waiting for him to wink, to do something, anything to show her he didn't mean this, that this was part of some plan she didn't understand yet. He didn't. Instead he said, "Not really. Her abilities are somewhat better than average, but she's mediocre everywhere else." He leaned forward a little, and now he did look at her. " Everywhere else."