Personal Demons (28 page)

“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.

H
e 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.”

For another minute or so he just held her, his slowing breath hot on her neck. Then he pulled away, kissed her hard on the mouth, and helped her sit back up.

“So.” He took another swig from the bottle. Megan recognized the action. That speech, made into the hidden shadows at her throat, was all she would get from him. Whatever fear or panic for her safety he'd experienced, whatever his feelings were towards her, she'd have to take the clues she'd just been given.

But then, reading clues to people's emotions in their behavior was her business.

“What do you plan to do with them?”

“Who? Oh. The personal demons.” She shook her head. “I have no idea, to be honest. I can't very well tell them not to do what they do. They'll die, and I promised to take care of them. But I can't just give them free rein, either.”

“Business could boom. They reel them in, you cure them and send them on their way.”

Megan took the bottle from his hand and tried not to laugh. “That's one way to look at it. But I'd rather see if we can't help society and not just line my pockets.”

“The Gretneg of a Meegra has to do what's best for her family first.”

She hadn't thought of that. “You mean…I'm a Gretneg?”

He nodded. “Gretneg of Meegra Io Adflicta. They haven't officially been a Meegra for some time, but I'm sure you can build them back up.”

Gretneg of a Meegra. A week ago, she was a lonely counselor with the ability to win every hand at cards if she wanted. Now she had friends. A lover. A…family. Granted, her family consisted of small scaly creatures who lived on the unhappiness of humans, but it was better than being alone, wasn't it?

Yes. It was.

“What about you?” she asked. “What happens to your Meegra? Tera said—”

“Ignore Tera. You don't think I would have gone into all this without some contingency plans, do you? Half the Meegra was ready to kill Templeton themselves—he doesn't have any sons to take over anyway—and put me in his place already. I think Malleus, Maleficarum, and Spud can help me with the other half. They certainly proved their loyalty to you, breaking out of the dungeons to save you. Maybe we'll take them with us.”

“Hmm? Where?”

He stood up and grabbed her hand, lifting her to her feet. His eyes met hers, searching her depths, his lips quirked in a dangerous half-smile.

His arm stole around her waist to press her to him. “I was thinking of someplace sunny. Italy? What do you think,
bryaela
? You want to go to Florence for a week or two with me?”

“Maybe. What does that mean? You wouldn't tell me before.”

“Come with me and find out.”

“What happens after we get back? Aren't our families in competition or something?”

He kissed her forehead. “Let's take it one step at a time, shall we?”

Megan nodded and followed him up the stairs. One step at a time, all the way to his bedroom.

 

M
EGAN LEANED FORWARD
in the shadowy studio, smiling as Bill patched the first call of the night through. It was Regina, her caller from last week, the girl being tormented by demons.

Across the room, Rocturnus smiled at her from where he sat on the floor. He held up his hand. Regina was now off-limits. He'd called off her demons that morning, after Megan had finally woken up and gotten herself ready for work.

Bill pointed at her. Megan opened her mouth.

“Hi, Regina,” she said. “How can I slay your demons tonight?”

2-3 lbs stew beef or sirloin, cut in chunks

12 oz dark beer (Guinness or Murphy's)

2-3 tbsp olive oil

2-3 tbsp flour

1 tbsp or so onion powder or ½ onion chopped

salt & pepper to taste

2 tsp or so each of parsley, thyme (or whatever herbs you like)

1 tsp or so of rosemary or to taste

1/8 tsp or so nutmeg or to taste

2-3 tbsp Worcestershire

½ beef bouillon cube or 1 tsp bouillon paste (like “Better Than Bouillon”)

2 tsp or so gravy powder (optional)

1-2 pkgs frozen puff pastry (Check to see how much pastry is in a package. A block of pastry will usually give you enough for a top and bottom crust, whereas a roll-out sheet may only be enough for one.)

 

Heat olive oil in a large frying pan or saucepan with a lid. Cook chopped onions (if using) until they start to brown. (If you're not using onions, add the onion powder just before the beef or at the same time). Add beef, in batches if necessary, and brown. (Pan should be very hot, so the beef sears well). Sprinkle with herbs while cooking. Salt lightly, but do not pepper. (This tends to be a little salty, so go easy on the salt until you've tasted later). The beef will be hard at this point, like tough little nuggets.

When beef is all browned, add it all back to the pan and sprinkle with flour. Stir well. Add Worcestershire and bouillon, stir well. Add pepper and beer and stir well, scraping at the bottom of the pan, until it comes back to a low boil and the foam from the beer is mostly gone. Let it boil a couple of minutes, then cover and simmer 2½ hours or so, until tender, stirring very occasionally and checking liquid level.

When done—the meat should be very tender—taste and adjust seasonings. Check the liquid amount. It shouldn't be soupy (if it is, dump some of the excess, but save it in case you need to add it back in.) Make a Beurre blanc with some of the cooking liquid and some flour, then stir that back in to thicken it (or just add a little flour at a time and stir it in well). Set aside to cool once it's reached the consistency you like. It should resemble a slightly thin gravy. (It will thicken a bit as it bakes, so don't worry if it still seems too liquidy.)

While the filling cools, roll out the pastry and shape it for the pan. Line a pie pan (Megan uses a 9-inch deep dish pie pan, but you can even make square pies) with pastry, bake at 400 degrees (or according to package directions) for 15-20 minutes or until puffy and starting to brown. Add filling, cover with second pastry sheet, crimp edges. Be sure to cut a vent in the “lid” so steam can escape.

Bake a further 30-40 minutes until top crust is puffy and brown. Serve with gravy and whatever side dishes you like. This reheats beautifully, too, in the microwave or the oven (350 degrees for 20 minutes or so, and cover the pastry with foil so it doesn't get too brown).