I knew Adam wouldn’t let me leave without a fight. If I gave him any clue what I was going to do, I’d find myself locked in the room next door. So while he was bending over Val’s body, I armed the Taser and shot him in the back.

CHAPTER 17

I left Adam’s house in something of a daze. I think it was shock.

I took the Taser with me, as well as the shopping bags I’d left in the bedroom. Adam was starting to regain control of his limbs when I was ready to leave, so I shot him again. He tried to say something — no doubt something really complimentary about me — but the electricity had damaged his control too badly and all he could do was glare at me as I walked out.

By the time I hit the sidewalk, my cheeks were drenched with tears. I swiped them angrily away, then made an anonymous 911 call on Val’s cell phone, which I still had.

I didn’t regret that call until about an hour later, when I checked in to a cheap airport motel under an assumed name. When the door closed behind me, and I was finally able to let go of the reins, I threw myself onto the bed and sobbed, not even sure what I was sobbing for.

Grief over Val’s death? Maybe. Guilt over my role in it? Certainly. Fear for my life? That was there, too.

When the tears had run their course, leaving me exhausted in body and soul, I finally let myself think about what I’d just done to Adam. Would my anonymous call be enough to get a search warrant? Would Adam have had time to hide the evidence before the cops arrived?

If the cops found Val’s body and Adam was executed as a rogue demon, would I ever be able to live with myself?

My head started to pound fiercely. I hauled myself into the shower, hoping the hot water would soothe me, but of course it didn’t.

This wasn’t the first time in my life I’d acted first and thought later. But never had the potential consequences been so terrible. I prayed that Adam had hidden the body and the evidence well, prayed that I wouldn’t have to face the consequences of my actions.

Yeah, technically it was Adam who would have to face them, if it came to that, but I’m really, really good at guilt, and I was practically choking on it. As far as I could tell, I hadn’t done a single thing right since the moment I’d realized I was possessed.

Feeling maudlin in the extreme, I called Brian. I didn’t know if he’d take my call after the way I’d left, but I desperately needed to reach out to someone. I’d alienated everyone who mattered, and I’d never felt so alone in all my life.

I got his answering machine. It tells you something about my state of mind that hearing his voice even on a recording made me feel just a little better. I waited a bit to see if he would pick up, but he didn’t. I told him I was sorry, that I loved him, and that I would try him again later.

The headache got worse, the pain stabbing through my eye socket all the way to the base of my skull. I begged some aspirin from the desk clerk, but it didn’t help. I wondered if I was having a stroke or something. I’d had stress headaches before, but never anything like this.

Moaning in misery, I lay down on the bed and clutched the pillow to my face, blocking out all the light, but the pain just wouldn’t let up.

Until I opened my eyes to find myself in Lugh’s place again. The pain was blessedly gone, but one look at Lugh sent my sense of relief scurrying for cover.

Black leather, as usual, but different this time. He looked like a Hell’s Angel crossed with one of those professional wrestlers who always play the bad guy. Heavy loops of silver chain decorated his jacket. Fingerless gloves with silver-studded cuffs circled his wrists. And instead of his usually elegant leather boots, he wore heavy, cruel-looking shit-kickers.

The look on his face said I was the shit he wanted to kick. I tried willing myself to wake up, but-wouldn’t you know it? — this time it didn’t work.

Lugh advanced on me, both his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes glowing like beacons. I backed away. I had a feeling that even though this was a dream, he was perfectly capable of making me hurt in it.

He kept coming, and I kept backing up, until I hit a wall that was closer than I’d expected. Maybe it hadn’t been there until that moment. I put my hands up in a defensive gesture as he closed the last little bit of distance between us.

I could no more hold him off than I could a tank. His chest hit my palms and pushed my arms back. He slapped his hands hard against the wall on each side of my head and leaned into me.

I’d thought Adam was scary-looking when he was mad. Lugh was the stuff of nightmares. The menace radiated from him in almost palpable waves, pounding against my defenses. Every nerve in my body demanded I run for my life, but I couldn’t force a single muscle to move.

Not that I could have gone anywhere anyway. He’d parked himself in my personal space, and he wasn’t leaving until he was good and ready.

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, unable to bear the pressure of his gaze.

“Morgan Kingsley, you are a fool, ” he growled. And I mean growled. The sound of his voice was barely human.

I quivered in terror. And believe me, I’m not the quivering type. Bravado is one of my best friends, but I couldn’t muster a drop of it.

“Just what are you planning on doing?” he continued, still in that awful, growling voice. “You have no home, you have no friends, you have no resources, and you’ve fled from the one man who can actually help you!”

He was so furious I felt little drops of spit pepper my cheeks. Talk about realistic dreams…

“Open your eyes and look at me!” he commanded.

But I was too damn scared. I guess I was hoping if I didn’t look, he’d go away, kind of like the monster under the bed.

He didn’t.

One hard, strong hand closed around my throat and squeezed.

I gasped, and my eyes opened of their own accord. Once I met his gaze, I couldn’t look away. And I wanted to, believe me I did.

Still holding me by the throat and squeezing just hard enough to make breathing difficult, he leaned forward until his nose almost touched mine.

“The instant you wake up, you will call Adam and have him come to pick you up. Assuming, that is, that he hasn’t been arrested thanks to you.”

I grabbed his wrist with both my hands and tried to break his grip on my throat. I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t budge.

“He might not let me come back,” I managed to choke out with what little air I could suck in. Funny how I needed to breathe even in a dream.

“He will. Unlike you, Morgan, he’s not childish enough to let his emotions rule his common sense. And he knows there’s more at stake here than your life.”

“You don’t understand. I watched him kill Val in cold blood!”

“I don’t understand?” He shook me, rattling my teeth. “I’m a passenger in your body. I can read your thoughts. I understand exactly what you did. I understand that you were angry with yourself for allowing him to hurt her, and that you took your anger out on him in the worst possible way.”

I had to close my eyes again, couldn’t face Lugh’s anger, couldn’t face what I’d done.

Because, of course, Lugh was right.

He let go of my throat, and even with my eyes closed I knew he’d moved away, though I hadn’t heard any footsteps. My back slid down the wall until my butt hit the floor. Eyes still closed, I touched a hand to my throat to see if he’d left bruises. It seemed not.

When I gathered enough courage to open my eyes again, I saw that he’d conjured a wing chair out of nowhere and was sitting on the very edge of it about ten feet away. His eyes still glowed, and his posture was still stiff and angry, but at least he’d given me some breathing room.

My voice came out weak and breathy when I spoke. “If you know my thoughts, then you know how sorry I am for what I did. If I could take it back, I would. But I’m only human. And watching him kill Val, hearing him tell me that he could even kill Dominic and not feel bad about it, was one too many shocks to absorb. I cracked.”