Demon Inside

She stood up, aware that the others around the table had leaped out of the way and were now staring openmouthed at her.

“Does she feel like an ornita now, Orion?”

“Bitch,” Maldon spat from the floor. He wiped blood from his lips and licked it off his fingers.

“Don’t do it,” Greyson warned. Tension laced his pose as he stared at Maldon. “Insult a Gretneg and get punished. Attack one…”

“Eska brenti Gretneg, kallahept!”

Megan blinked. The sensation of cold from the anger in the room seeped through her skin, into her body, as if the blood in her veins was ru

Her knees buckled and she grabbed for the edge of the table with stiff, numb fingers. She couldn’t seem to hold it, couldn’t put any strength into it…Why was it so hard to breathe? The room started swimming as blackness filled the edges of her vision.

Greyson’s hand closed over her arm, his fingers dragging bruises from beneath her skin. “Meg, come on, don’t give in,” he said, but she couldn’t hear him very well through the haze of voices and the loud, slow beating of her own heart. Ba-bump…ba-bump…ba…bump…

“Damn it, Meg, reach for it!”

Ba…what was he saying? Did it matter? The cold was starting to feel pleasant now, the way she’d heard it did when you started to freeze to death. Maybe that’s what was happening, maybe she could just slip off into sleep now and—bump.

What? No!

Her panicked brain rebelled, woke up, and she knew what Greyson was telling her, begging her, to do. Heat burned the arm he held, warming her freezing blood enough to keep it beating, but she needed the heat inside, all the way through her. Somehow she forced herself to open up, envisioned tentacles coming from the demon inside her and reaching out, reaching through her skin, until she found Greyson’s power and grabbed it with every bit of strength she had left. It roared through her body, obscuring everything else. For a moment she didn’t just see the flames, she was them, bright and glorious as she rose to the ceiling and burst apart.

Greyson tugged at her, dragging her away from the table. Her vision cleared, the flames subsiding enough to see it wasn’t just in her mind, it wasn’t a hallucination built on power. The room was on fire, the curtains already gone, the crystal glasses on the table shattering from the heat.

They made it almost to the edge of the dining room before Maldon grabbed her other hand, almost yanking her away from Greyson. The shaggy blond hair on one side of his head was gone, burned away. His cheek on that side was red, his eyebrow singed.

“T’gau li!” His voice, thick with rage, chilled even Megan’s overheated skin as his piercing blue stare bored into her.

But more than his gaze on her, she felt his power. Not being aimed at her, but resting in his body. His abilities, like hers with reading images in people’s minds or Greyson’s with fire. She felt his co

Then it was over. And she would never know if it ended because she wanted it to, or if it ended because Greyson punched Maldon squarely on the nose and sent him sprawling across the carpet.

The sliding glass doors behind the dining table exploded. Megan started to turn toward them but she was already falling, being shoved down to the carpet a few inches from Maldon’s feet. Demons ran everywhere, down the hall to her right, escaping from what, Megan didn’t understand.

Maldon stirred. Blood poured from his nose down his face as he tried to sit up, but Greyson was already grabbing his lapels and using them to lift his upper body.

“You set us up!”

Maldon swung his fist. Greyson’s head snapped to the side but he held on, managing to hit Maldon again in the process.

Porcelain shards filled the air as a vase shattered only a few inches from the men’s heads. Greyson dropped Maldon and ducked. Megan ducked too, covering her head and screaming as a wall of flame rose behind her.

“Megan! Go!”

Glass and china tore her stockings and cut the skin on her knees and palms as she scuttled away. The front door filled her vision, the front door and the promise of freedom from the hell this modern suburban home had become. Over the subtle roar of the fire and Greyson’s shouts she heard more gunshots.

No time to waste wondering who was doing the shooting. She had to get out, now, immediately, before the heat overcame her. Sweat poured down her forehead to sting her eyes, but she dared not stop even to wipe it away.

It felt like an eternity before she made it. Her hand slipped on the knob once, twice, three times before she realized the door was locked. She fumbled with the dead bolt, aware that as she stood in front of the ivory-painted door in her black dress she might as well have had a target painted on her back.

Other fingers covered hers, strong and sure, flipping the bolt. Greyson yanked the door open. Cold air rushed in, cooling the sweat on her skin. It felt wonderful, but not as good as knowing she could get out. She lifted her foot to take the first step toward freedom, then stopped short when the cold barrel of a gun pressed right between her eyes.

Chapter 15

Time froze while a thumb cocked the gun. It took forever for that movement to complete itself, while Megan’s mouth opened to scream. Instinctively she fell back to her knees, knowing it wouldn’t help her, it would only delay the inevitable by a few seconds.

She lowered her shields and let her power surge again, fueled by fear and rage and the desperate need to save herself. Simultaneously flames exploded around the gunman. Megan’s energy weapon hit the fire, turning it into a conflagration so bright it seared her retinas.

She rolled away, catching glimpses of the gunman as he fell backward, dropping the glowing, melting hunk of metal that had been the gun. The living room windows shattered. Jesus, how many people were shooting at them?

Greyson landed on top of her with a thud. His heart was beating so hard she could feel it through their clothes. “Are you okay?”

Megan didn’t realize she was crying until she tried to talk and nothing came out. She could hardly breathe, much less speak, but she managed a tiny nod.

The room fell silent.

“They’re waiting for us,” he whispered. She nodded again.

Sirens sounded in the distance, growing louder. For a second relief flooded her body, until she realized that if the police and fire trucks were coming, the gunmen needed to finish their work. Now.

Her thoughts were either right in unison with Greyson’s and their assailants, or only a split second behind. His fingers curled around her arm and ripped her up from the floor. A barrage of bullets sent chunks flying from the walls and blasted the picture frames on them, glass raining down on their heads like diamonds as they ran for the hall.

Light spilled faintly from beneath the doors. Megan had the sickening feeling they were heading for a dead end as the sirens grew louder and the gunshots started to slow, but Greyson seemed to know what he was doing. He dragged her through a doorway—past a very surprised demon brushing his teeth—and smashed through the small window at the other end of the bathroom, twisting his body so his back took the brunt and dragging Megan after him.

Together they fell onto the icy ground outside.

All she wanted to do was lie there and let the blessed cold seep into her body, but Greyson yanked her from the ground before she even had a chance to take a breath.