Free Demon Possessed by Stacia Kane Page B

edge?”
     
    Ugh. “I watched him.”
     
    “All the way? Did you watch him hit the ground?”
     
    “No. No, I . . . I couldn’t. I didn’t. I just saw him fall.” Watched him tumble off the roof, his body disappearing over the wall . . . she shuddered.
     
    Malleus’s finger tapped her lips, magically setting her lipstick. She ignored it. If the man—the witch—was still alive, if she hadn’t killed him . . . it was a relief. At least it was until she realized that if he wasn’t dead, he’d be coming back for her.
     
    Greyson must have thought the same thing. “No more going anywhere alone. Nowhere. We’ll need someone . . . hmm.” He checked his watch. “We need to get back down there. We’ll discuss this later, okay? Meanwhile, nothing happened. We’ll figure out a story in the elevator.”
     
     
    * * *
     
     
     
    Dessert was some incredibly rich chocolate raspberry thing that Megan couldn’t even come close to finishing. Even if her stomach hadn’t been alive with nerves she wouldn’t have been able to finish it.
     
    She could finish her cocktails, though. Several of them. One good thing about the energy she’d taken from the witch, it allowed her to drink a hell of a lot more without feeling anything more than a pleasant buzz. She’d probably pay for it the next day, but at that point she didn’t care. Everyone rose from the table and started milling around. Dinner was over. Thank God, dinner was over, and soon she’d be able to go back to their room and figure out what was going on. Or at least try to figure out what was going on.
     
    The luxurious setting made everything even more unreal. What was she doing there? Yes, fine, she’d admit it. She’d gotten rather used to luxury over the last eleven months or so. How could she not, when she spent a few nights a week—okay, every weekend and several midweek nights—in a mansion? A real one, with servants. When her costume jewelry had slowly but surely gathered dust because she wore real diamonds now, real sapphires and rubies, all gifts from her very wealthy boyfriend?
     
    But the dining room wasn’t what she was used to. It wasn’t simply a very fine restaurant or the Ieuranlier. It buzzed with energy, with demon voices and laughter. As if she was on a stage in a very bizarre play. She watched Greyson light Justine’s cigarette with his fingertip. Watched Winston and his daughter add a little blood to their wine from the flask in Winston’s pocket. She stood in a room full of demons, nonhuman beings, and earlier that night another nonhuman being had tried to kill her, and she thought she’d killed him but his body had somehow disappeared.
     
    Brian had once commented on how unfazed she’d seemed to be by the news that demons actually existed. And that had not disturbed her but concerned her, until she’d realized that a large part of the reason was that deep down she’d remembered. Remembered being possessed by the Accuser, remembered everything.
     
    That didn’t explain how she was still standing, still accepting the attempts to kill her or the fact that, upset as she was about taking a life, she was more worried about the disappearance of the body and the idea that she hadn’t actually been successful in her murder.
     
    That was where the unreality came from. It was the feeling that she was being watched, that eyes lurked behind those lovely ivy-covered walls or peeked at her from inside the air vents. Her skin tingled as if she were naked. Totally exposed.
     
    Not comfortable, not at all. So she stood up and headed for Greyson, smiling when she saw Roc perched on his shoulder. The two were deep in conversation with Carter; she imagined they were discussing what had happened to her earlier, but that didn’t dissuade her. Just being near them would give her strength.
     
    Leora Lawden stepped into her path, a shy smile on her pretty face. Funny, Megan had never thought Winston’s features would look right