Meg cocked her head, forcing herself to show curiosity instead of the acidic panic that leaped into her throat.
“He was the winner of last night’s nomination. You’re going to use your gift to help convince Joe to take me on as his running mate. I may not go into the White House as President, but I will damn well get there as the Vice President. That’s just one small step away from the Oval Office.”
The glint in his eye passed excitement and crazed a few miles back. Now the man was firmly dancing in the land of maniacal frenzy.
Meg could feel the dementia oozing out of his pores and imagining him so close to being the “leader of the free world” made feel physically sick.
Oh hell no, she gasped inwardly.
“We had a deal, Arkdone,” she began, thankful her voice sounded steady, belying her racing heart. Adrenaline hurtled through her body and she had to force herself to breathe through the involuntary need to quiver. She leveled her gaze mustering all the physiological control years of martial arts had taught her. “First you get the Winter Family back to the States. Then, I work for you. In that order.”
Arkdone waved his hand dismissively. “I’ve already made arrangements with our government. The Winters have been granted permission to return without obstruction. They are scheduled to cross the border in two days.”
Two days, Meg’s mind raced. She bit back the happiness she wanted to feel, worried he had just blatantly lied to her.
Using her gift, she mentally eased toward him to try to determine if he were telling the truth. Her emotional fingers reached out to pull aside the shroud where the truth lurked and gasped at the excruciatingly solid mental slap she received from his powerful mind.
Both Arkdone and Meg knew exactly what happened.
He’d sensed her psychic channeling into his mind and had clamped down hard against her. Meg felt a trickle in her nose and nearly rolled her eyes with pain and frustration as she caught the first drops of blood in her cupped hand.
Arkdone sauntered toward her, reaching into his front breast pocket and retrieved a red handkerchief. He held it out to her without a word about what she’d tried to do.
He only raised one brow at the sight of Meg’s nose bleeding as though he had punched her, but Arkdone didn’t miss a beat. He just kept talking.
“So unless you want me to stop their smooth return, you’d better be willing to play the part tomorrow with Hawthorne.”
“I am fully aware of your wishes.” Meg’s dark eyes crackled with hatred for the monster basking in a demonic glow. Meg felt it when she got close a moment ago. His outer fa?ade hid the heart of a power-hungry, narcissistic, calculating monster and she wanted nothing more to do with him.
Level him, Meg. Do it! she thought. You know you can unleash the hell from which he came by beckoning every living soul in the asylum. They’d come in droves! They’d be a pulsing, mindless knife-wielding, shotgun loading, trigger-caressing mob.
Meg’s fear-induced anger swirled these thoughts of violence through her mind like blood circling a dirty drain.
Calm down, she ordered herself. Now is not the time to rid the world of that cancer. Not yet, and not with a frenzied mob.
Without another word to the Senator’s challenging stare, Meg rolled her shoulders back, took a deep breath through nearly clenched teeth, turned and walked out of the cave-like study. Her head was pounding with the force of bass drums and though she was hurting for it, at least she had confirmed Arkdone was telling the truth about her family before he slammed her brain with his crushing defense.
Two days is two days too late, she thought frantically. Getting Arkdone elected to the White House, even as a Vice President was not part of the plan.
15 Get Out Alive
Meg made her way back to her room, her mind both throbbing with pain and spinning with frantic thoughts of escape. She sensed him before she saw him. Niche stepped from the shadows.
“Oh God, what did he do to you?”
“I’ll be fine. I have bigger issues than a bloody nose.” Meg motioned subtly for Niche to follow her into her suite. He was right on her heels, his hand already at the small of her back. Once inside the room, Meg held her finger to her lips. She stood in the middle of the room, Niche’s hand still holding her back and closed her eyes to concentrate on all the energies in the compound.
She felt the despair from the patients, some of whom were still being “trained” to become Monarchs. Her heart ached for them. She felt Michelle joining Arkdone in his study. Her sticky sweet, fake aura left Meg feeling sickly. She sensed Ermos the chauffer/body guard and Eloise the housemaid going about their nightly tasks. She felt the kitchen help, the “controllers” and other psychiatric doctors and nurses who lived on the compound. She felt the metamonarchs running in a mindless squad around the outskirts of the facility. What she didn’t sense was someone monitoring her via visual or auditory means.