Personal Demons Read Free Page A

her connection with Kevin’s dream, but she could not. Something had grabbed hold of her mind and refused to let go.
    She tried to cry out for Lucy the receptionist, for anyone, but no sound escaped her constricted throat. She reached up, her fingers scrabbling for what felt like a cord squeezing her neck, but she scratched at empty air.
    Kevin fell off the couch, smashing into the glass-top table in the middle of the floor. His body still twisted and writhed, horrible gagging noises coming from his open mouth.
    Megan’s vision started going black around the edges, black as the dream door that screeched on huge brass hinges…
    Just before she saw what lurked behind it, the door to her office burst open. Lucy’s terrified face was the last thing Megan saw before darkness overtook her.
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    â€œI’ M FINE .” Megan sat up on the bed and swung her legs over the side. “I just want to go home.”
    â€œThe doctor hasn’t released you,” the nurse replied, in the weary tones of a woman used to being ignored and treated badly by the people she tried to help.
    â€œCan you call her for me, please? I’m fine.” It was a lie. She was not fine, but the hospital couldn’t do anything for her.
    Twice in two days now she’d had an unusual reaction when tuning in to someone. Three times, if you included her inability to read anything from the lawyer on herdoorstep. Was it possible for psychic abilities to suddenly become uncontrollable? Or was it a coincidence, some odd alignment of the planets? Maybe Kevin was epileptic or had an organic brain dysfunction?
    She had no way to find out, no one she could ask. In her youth Megan had looked for a mentor, someone else who could do what she did. Once she’d realized her parents couldn’t help, she’d tried making appointments with Tarot readers and psychics. None of them were able to do anything for her, with the exception of the Tarot reader who’d advised her to let go of her anger. Megan liked her anger and ignored the advice.
    Through trial and error, not to mention desperation, she’d found a way to shield herself, but she’d never advanced beyond that.
    The nurse looked her up and down. “Are you the kind of person who ignores doctor’s orders?”
    Megan smiled. “No. I’m not an idiot.”
    â€œYou don’t look like an idiot,” the nurse said, returning the smile. “I’ll get her.” She turned and headed for the busy nurse’s station in the middle of the Emergency Care area, her jogging shoes making little squeaks on the polished tile floor. Megan bit her fingernails and waited.
    â€œYou know, we have a snack machine,” the doctor said, entering Megan’s little curtained cubicle. “In case those nails don’t fill you up.”
    Megan blushed. “Nervous habit. Oral fixation.”
    â€œMmm-hmm. You’re a counselor, right? PhD?” The doctor—Janet Hunter, according to her ID badge—cocked an eyebrow and grinned.
    â€œPhysician, heal thyself?”
    â€œSomething like that. I suppose it could be worse. You could smoke.”
    â€œNo smoking. Just clean, non-lethal nasty habits.”
    â€œGreat. Lisa tells me you’re feeling fine, and I don’t see any reason to keep you here, but try to take it easy for the next few days, okay? And call your regular doctor if you have any dizziness or pain that can’t be treated with a couple of Tylenol.”
    Megan nodded.
    â€œDr. Chase?”
    A man in a plaid shirt and a pair of brown corduroy jeans that had seen better days stood in the entryway to Megan’s room. Large glasses dominated his smiling face. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said. “I wanted to catch you before they discharge you.”
    â€œI’m done with her, Art. Signing her discharge now, you’re just in time.”
    â€œExcellent.” The man stepped further into