Personal Demons by Stacia Kane

shelooked silly, but that the men in her room had ample time to attack her while she sorted out her weapon. Their restraint from doing so provided her some comfort, but her heart still pounded in her chest.
    â€œWho are you?” she demanded. Her voice squeaked.
    The men glanced at each other, chagrined. The tall one spoke. “M’lady, didn’t—”
    â€œGood morning, gentlemen.” Greyson entered the room, clad in a black suit with creases so sharp Megan imagined he could cut himself on them if he wasn’t careful. He was freshly showered and shaved, and smelled like vanilla and smoke. “Good morning, Megan. Just barely. Doing a little redecorating?”
    Megan glanced at the lamp in her hand, glared at him, then looked at the clock. It was 11:30. “Shit!” She set the lamp on the edge of the table and pushed the covers back, ready to leap out of bed.
    â€œSit down,” Greyson said, holding out his hand. “I called Brian already to make sure you didn’t have to be up for a while yet. The shoot’s not until two.”
    â€œWho exactly are these men and what are they doing in my bedroom?”
    â€œAh.” Greyson looked at the three, who stood a little straighter under his gaze. “Megan Chase, may I present your bodyguards: Malleus, Maleficarum, and Spud.”
    â€œMy what?”
    â€œYour bodyguards. The one on the left is Malleus, the tall one is Maleficarum, and that one is Spud. I’ve assigned them to you.”
    Megan glanced at the three men, still standing against the wall like they were in a police line-up. She got out of bed and grabbed Dante’s arm. “I need to talk to you.”
    â€œExcuse us,” Greyson said, as she led him out into the living room and closed the bedroom door.
    â€œWho are they? What the hell do you mean, scaring me like that? How do you think I felt waking up with strange men in my room after last night?”
    â€œI told you who they are. They’re your bodyguards. You need someone with you at all times, and I can’t do it.” He leaned in a little closer. “They wouldn’t have been in there watching you sleep if you’d let me stay, you know. Care to change your mind for the future?”
    â€œNo.” Megan was suddenly aware that she only wore a T-shirt. He’d seen her in her bra last night, but somehow that was different. She grabbed the blanket from last night off the couch and wrapped it around her. It wasn’t great, but it was better. “Look, Greyson, don’t think I don’t appreciate your help. I do. And I—I’d like it if you’d keep helping me, because I don’t want to die. But those men…I can’t have those men follow me around. They look like they’re going to kill someone.”
    â€œOnly if that someone tries to get in their way,” Greyson said. “Or yours. Besides, they’re not men. They’re demons.”
    â€œOf course. I should have known.”
    â€œYes, you should have. Painkillers getting to you? Come with me.” Without waiting for an answer, he handed her a cup of coffee, then led her through the French doors to the patio. Her little black cast-iron table and chair set beckoned, the blue and white mosaic tile tabletop looking as peaceful and cheerful as ever. The patio was her favorite place.
    The sun had warmed the seats and warmed her skin, too, as she sat down. She sighed, relaxing, but then she caught sight of the shed. Everything came back, the rotting faces, the smell, the screams…she set down her mug and pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders.
    Dante was silent for a minute. “I thought you might be more comfortable out here. Would you rather go back in?”
    â€œNo. No, I’m all right.” The coffee was hot and strong, almost burning her tongue, but she forced herself to drink deeply. The cobwebs in her head didn’t want to go away, and she